Cunning Folks
by bxrdybxrd
Summary: Harry Potter has never thought there would be anyone else, other than the Dursleys, that could take him in. When he is given a chest by his Aunt Petunia, his world is turned upside down and learns of a legacy the Dursleys had failed to inform him.
1. Chapter 1: The Chest

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders nor Harry Potter are mine. I'm just having fun with combining their world. We will be following Peaky Blinder's timeline, with a few tweaks because I can. Also let's ignore the fact that people had TVs in 1919 instead of 1927/28. It was a mistake that I was too lazy to rectify.

* * *

Harry James Potter scurried from his hiding place, past behind the passing milk man's van, and towards number four Privet Drive. The boy of no more than five tried his best to look presentable, leaving his unruly hair (and what a hopeless situation it was) and knocked twice. He pursed his lips, hoping his Aunt would answer, and he could have a small drink of water, perhaps even some bread, or even have the chance to bathe. Harry did not expect anything of the sort, especially since it was his birthday. It was only a good thing he was allowed to leave the house and go to the public library. While he did not take any books back with him, Harry made sure to hide the books he was reading in the very back, where no one would notice it.

Not a moment later, his Aunt Petunia had her narrowed eyes directed at him and she quickly ushered him inside with a pinch on the shoulder. Harry winced, expecting his sore shoulder to bruise later.

While Harry lived in the residence with his relatives, he was very much unwelcome to them. Petunia Dursley, a tall, skinny woman, with a long neck that was always adorned by pearls, would always shout at him to get things done inside the house or the garden, but never had she raised her voice at her dear son, Dudley. His aunt had a mean streak, more so than her portly husband, Vernon Dursley, who reminded Harry once in a while how he should be grateful a ' _freak'_ like him was being sheltered in their home. At least with Uncle Vernon, the man preferred to pretend Harry did not exist and would only grunt when he happened to cross the man's path.

Harry hurried to his room, the cupboard under the stairs, and stored his shoes before he came back out. Aunt Petunia had called for him and he expected another long list of chores to be done by him before sunset. When he entered the kitchen where his aunt was waiting for him, she did not have the usual piece of paper with his chores, but a black chest sitting on top of the dining table. It had silver trimmings and the initials _H.J.P_ embossed in gold on the lid, its gold key sticking out of the keyhole. Curious, Harry approached his aunt but was careful to not let her see how it piqued his interest.

"Did you need me for something Aunt Petunia?" He whispered, careful to not end up on the receiving end of his aunt's ire. Aunt Petunia had a short fuse for anything that Harry said or did.

She pushed the chest towards Harry. "This has your parents' things. Dropped off by one of their... _kind,_ back when you had just been dumped with us." Aunt Petunia raised her nose, as if she smelled something foul. "It's yours now, but I never want to see it lying around or I will burn it myself." Then she left the kitchen, leaving a dumbfounded Harry staring at what could be his life's treasure.

The threat from his aunt pushed him to pick up the chest, and tried his best not to drop it on the way to his cupboard. Harry stuck a sock under the cupboard door so it would stay closed, then he fumbled around for his old and rusting military flashlight, and set it on a ledge above him, it's beam flooding the entire cupboard but centered especially on the chest.

With trembling hands, he twisted the key open and pushed the lid upwards. There was a bundle of letters, two long narrow boxes, a thick, black book of sorts, trinkets that were unfamiliar to Harry, and last but not the least, a shimmering cloth, folded primly underneath everything else.

He picked up a small gold ball with engraved wings on its sides and almost yelped when it started fluttering about his room at quick speeds. Filled with fascination and fear at what he was witnessing, Harry tentatively darted his hand forward to catch the tiny menace. Its wings kept on moving as he inspected the ball, but it eventually settled down, the wings tucking themselves flat against the ball again. Harry buried it back into the chest, underneath the pile of letters just in case it decided to fly away.

"That's not weird at all." Harry muttered to himself before moving onto the next item.

The long narrow boxes were labeled. One had James Potter inscribed on it, and the other said Lily Evans.

"These must have been my parents' names." Harry whispered to himself, his eyes blurring at the newfound fact. His aunt had always refused to tell Harry anything about his parents, except that they were low-lives, but sometimes his aunt would slip, and spew hate about 'that James Potter freak' or 'precious Lily'. Sniffing his tears back, Harry swiped at his eyes and put the boxes down, opting to reach for another item instead.

Harry held off on opening the boxes, even with great curiosity. If they were anything like the flying gold ball he had picked up earlier, Harry shuddered to think what would happen. The thick book turned out to be an album, but it was also not as normal as he would have expected it to be.

Harry gasped at the pictures. Instead of still photos, everything in the picture moved and he waved back to a couple who waved again. Harry Potter had no doubt these were his parents, James and Lily Potter.

The man had his unruly black hair, but had hazel eyes, and strong jaws. He would occasionally kiss the woman's cheeks and twirl her around. Harry ran his finger on the man's figure, in awe that the person, his _dad_ , looked so much like him. The woman was beautiful and had long red hair, and the most piercing green eyes he had ever seen on another person except his own. The woman, his mother, was strikingly beautiful, and Harry's eyes blurred with tears at the thought of what he could have had if circumstances were different. She smiled a great deal, and often rolled her eyes at his father, clearly having had enough of his antics. Harry grinned at that, feeling elated at how silly they acted in the pictures. He was just grateful they were nothing like how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon acted. He flipped through the album carefully, afraid that he might damage anything and his parents would stop waving or smiling at him. As he continued flipping through, Harry wept for the ones where he was being held by his parents when he was just a mere baby. Many of the pictures included Sirius Black, a long haired man, whose grey eyes and easy grin made him grin as well. Sirius Black often held him in the pictures, and was dubbed 'Harry's Dogfather', whatever that meant.

When he came to the end of the album, it was of Harry's mother, his dad, Sirius, and a man much shorter than the rest, with piercing blue eyes, and dark hair shaved at the sides. Unlike the others, he was wearing a high-collared shirt, suspenders clipped to a pair of dark pants, and a peaked flat clap. He would smile wide, and his blue eyes would almost disappear at the gesture. Sirius occasionally would pat him on the back and bring him closer to Lily and James, forming a group hug. Harry's mother and the man would be dwarfed by his much taller dad, and Sirius, and he would try to get out of the taller men's holds to no avail. His eyes glanced down at the names below the picture.

 _Lily Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black, Thomas Shelby._

Harry smiled at how close they looked. Shrugging, Harry moved onto rummaging through the other items. Harry was uninterrupted while he looked at the contents of the chest. He read the short letters written by his parents to each other while his dad could not come home due to a 'mission' because he was an 'Auror', or when his mom was held up at a place called the 'Department of Mysteries _'._ Slowly, he pieced together what his parents were from all the strange words they used in the letters.

"But, it's not real...? Magic sounds impossible." Harry whispered as he looked down at the words 'witch' and 'wizard' written in his mother's penmanship. Still trying to wrap his head around it, Harry took the one of the last envelopes addressed to him and began to read.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _We write to you in hopes that you are safe and loved, and that we have not perished yet. Remember that no matter what happens, your father and I love you, and that no matter what you achieve in life, we will always be proud of you.  
If you are reading this, then it would mean that we are no longer in this world, but I assure you we did not want to leave on purpose, my love. Hopefully, your godfather Sirius has matured enough in time and is raising you with your Uncle Thomas, and that Tommy has not let you become too corrupted by Siri. If you are not with them, then hopefully you are with your godmother Alice and her husband Frank Longbottom. Alice and I did hope you and her son, Neville, would be the best of friends growing up.  
_ _Harry, please know that a very evil wizard has decided that we are in his way to ruling the wizarding world. We have done all the precautions so that this man, who fashioned himself the name Lord Voldemort, will not be able to harm you in any way. We will be casting the Fidelius charm and apply it to our location. Our good friend, Peter, will be entrusted with the role of being our secret keeper, and that should Voldemort ever find us, it means Peter has betrayed our location to him. I trust Sirius and Tommy more, but your godfather thinks that he is a liability and everyone would know it was him who holds the knowledge of our location, and Tommy has been drafted to France. Your father and I are reluctant to switch to Peter, but Sirius has given a sound argument on the matter so we will accept.  
We are so very sorry, my love, if we have left you in this cruel world. We will always be watching over you even if we're not physically there. I only hope you are happy and safe wherever you are, my love._

 _With love,  
Mum_

Harry's mind reeled at what he had just read. Evil wizards and some secret location charm? It was the stuff of fairytales.

There was no way a kid like him was being hunted down by some wizard hellbent on world domination. He was just Harry, someone who lived under the stairs and someone who was supposed to be grateful he was not a freak living in the streets instead.

Harry looked back down at the chest and the letter. If his parents were to be believed, he was not a freak, but someone who could use charms, or magic.

Harry's mood soured in an instant. For the longest time, he had believed his parents to be drunkards who had no care for their son's life. He should have expected his relatives to lie about it, instead of taking their word as facts. How many times had he heard Vernon scoff at the fact that the Earth was a sphere? No wonder he was always being punished for something he could not explain how it happened. The Dursleys knew, and shunned him for something he was born with and had no control over.

Spurned by the revelations of his mom's letter, the latter clutched tightly to his chest, Harry crept out of his cupboard and went looking for Aunt Petunia. The house was mostly quiet, but there was a shuffling sound he could faintly hear coming from the upstairs. When he found her sweeping in Dudley's bedroom, Harry did not bother letting her know he was present before speaking.

"You knew I was a-a wizard." Harry braved himself, his eyes unflinchingly daring his aunt to deny. Petunia Dursley visibly winced and her grip on the broom she was holding tightened.

"Of course I knew." His aunt hissed at him. Harry could not help but step back at the menacing tone.

"How could you not be? You were left on our doorstep, in the middle of November, without so much as a by your leave by that headmaster of your mother's school. You never cried, things floated when you were in distress or wanted something. I had half a mind to toss you out because you might harm Dudley!" Her raised voice made Harry jump, then she sat on Dudley's bed, seemingly exhausted. Harry never really thought about how old people were, but at that moment, Petunia Dursley looked like she had aged a great deal in an instant.

"You did exactly everything that Lily did when she was small, just that you were much younger." Petunia took a deep, shuddering breath. "I didn't want to see Lily in your face. I didn't like how you don't resemble her sometimes. Your eyes are too green, the way your grin came about was all Lily, even if you look a lot like your father, all I see is my dead sister. Your existence is a constant reminder of how my sister was never coming back." She said finally, glaring at Harry with unbidden tears in her eyes.

Harry stood frozen, never having seen so much emotion in his aunt's face besides contempt. He did not know what to feel for this woman. Harry could barely comprehend the weight of her words. He had been orphaned but she had lost a sibling. Was that equal in terms of suffering? Harry chose his next words carefully. Aunt Petunia's eyes did not seem to have as much hate as it normally did.

"How could I be of fault for that?" Petunia's face slackened into surprise. "I'm not stupid. You don't want me, even if I try so hard in school and do everything you tell me to do. Mum says here I should have gone to other people." Harry lips trembled even as he said the next words. "I want to leave."

"Where will you go? Your kind will come looking for you." Petunia narrowed her eyes at him. "That headmaster told me you'll be going to their school. It's not as if I have a say in that but I do not care. I had hoped you would turn out normal but it was inevitable."

Harry frowned, scolding himself for not thinking that through. Where would he go? He then remembered the photo album and ran back to his cupboard. He returned back to his aunt still sitting on Dudley's bed, glaring at the wall.

Harry thrust the last photo in the album to his aunt's hands. She flinched when she saw it was moving. "Find me Sirius Black, or this Thomas Shelby." He winced at the lack of manners, but his aunt had been lying to him for years. It was even in his opinion. "Mum's letter says Sirius is my godfather. He must want me."

"You think he would have come looking for you all these years, but no one has ever come to claim you." Petunia stood up, handing him back the picture. "I don't know where Thomas Shelby has been, but we can try. If he does not respond, what will you do?"

Harry stared at the moving picture. "I'll stay here and not be a bother." He whispered.

He desperately hoped there would be a positive answer to his request. Why did his godfather not come for him? Did he also die and was gone forever like his parents? What of Tommy Shelby? Was he not his parents' friend anymore? Harry tried to still his tears but they came unbidden anyway, and he cried for his misery.

Aunt Petunia left him standing there, with only a whispered reminder that Vernon was going to be home soon. After a while, Harry walked away from Dudley's room and tucked his picture and letter in the chest, hoping that he would be taken away soon from this place.

* * *

It took Harry a full week before he would figure out how to work the small trinkets littering the chest he was given.

Once he had time to himself, Harry emptied out the chest on his cupboard floor, and put them into groups. The albums and letters were put off to one side, the pile of trinkets to another, the two long boxes on the farthest corner of his room, and then he finally set the chest with the shimmering cloth still in it behind him. The gold ball thankfully stayed stationary, and he eyed it warily as he reached for the two boxes. Harry opened his mother's first, and he gaped for the longest time at the item in it.

Sitting in red velvet was a twelve inch long stick, its cherry red surface carved with the most intricate details he had ever seen. A thin strip of twisted wood wound around the the entirety of the stick, ending in minuscule floral carvings near the tip. Harry picked it off the box and felt a surge of warmth go through him, which made him drop the stick back onto the box. With an idea of what this was, he turned to the other box that belonged to his father and was met with a similar item. This stick however was darker in colour, and had an aquiline shape. It had no intricate carvings, with the handle looking as if it was a mangled piece of wood. Harry held it in his hand and was surprised at the how comfortable the handle was, and how warmth also surged through his arm and throughout the rest of him.

There was no mistaking that these were wands.

* * *

It was a only a few days before Petunia Dursley would receive a response from one Tommy Shelby. In the span of those few days, Harry Potter had been given a few privileges that would normally be only allowed for Dudley. He did not know why his relatives had a sudden change of heart, or something close to it, but he welcomed it nevertheless. One of those privileges was that he was allowed to move to Dudley's second bedroom. Dudley had stomped around the house in anger that his room, filled with his broken toys and unwanted things, was being given to the 'freak'. While Vernon Dursley was usually a patient man when it came to his son's antics, he had instead put a stop to the tantrum by raising his voice for the first time and cutting Dudley's telly time to a mere thirty minutes. To say that the whole household was in shock was an understatement. With that said, Vernon then turned to a pale Harry and told him to move his things upstairs and clean the room for his use.

With his heart about to jump out of his chest, Harry had moved quickly, careful to not cause much noise as he climbed upstairs while carrying his clothes and meager amount of toys. He tentatively pushed the door open, looking behind him first for any sign of his rotund cousin. Harry got to work quickly, pushing broken things to a corner, and cleaned as much as he could of the dusty bed. Meanwhile, Dudley continued to demand more things from his parents, as compensation for losing so much in one day.

He was not surprised to find out one day, when his Aunt and Uncle were huddled in the kitchen, that all the changes were a ruse. They whispered furiously at each other, unaware of Harry hiding in his old cupboard, watching them with a frown.

"No, Vernon! We have to wait. The Shelbys were always a bunch of thugs, and if I'm right, he can make our lives worse if he finds something not to his liking. We'll have to let him believe the boy has been well taken care of." Petunia told Vernon. Harry watched his Uncle bristle and slam a meaty hand onto the counter. Harry and his aunt both flinched at the sound.

"I'll not have some crook threaten me! We will see when he gets here." With that, Uncle Vernon turned to walk away from Aunt Petunia.

Harry shut the door of the cupboard, scooting further in and waited with bated breath as his uncle stomped upstairs. Silence reigned in the house, before he heard movement resume in the kitchen.

He was upset at the revelation. And to think the Dursleys might have had a change of heart, and was going to start treating him like family. Harry thought furiously that he had been naive, and vowed to never expect anything ever again from his hateful relatives.

* * *

"Come here, Harry." Petunia called to him from the kitchen on a Saturday afternoon. Harry, who was watching telly, quickly came to where his aunt was. It was another thing that he was now allowed to do, besides getting better secondhand clothes. Since it was his turn to watch the telly, Dudley was with Pier Polkiss at the park, probably terrorizing another kid, and Vernon was having a nap upstairs.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?"

Petunia gave him an envelope. "I have hit a dead-end on Sirius. I have tried reaching your... kind, but I have gotten no response." She pursed her lips, clearly disapproving of the situation. Harry was disappointed but urged his aunt to continue.

"What about Tommy Shelby?" Harry's eyes widened, hopeful for good news. Petunia looked down at the envelope she gave him, then she turned around and went through the motions of washing the dishes. When she spoke, Harry strained his ears to hear what she was saying.

"He's willing to take you in. He will be picking you up sometime this weekend and you'll be living with him in Small Heath, Birmingham."

* * *

Harry peaked through the curtains and sat back down at the couch again when no one arrived at number four Privet Drive's driveway. Beside him was the chest with his initials and a duffel bag filled with his clothes, and another pair of shoes. He had a full view of his relatives going about their usual routines. Aunt Petunia could be seen through the kitchen door, preparing lunch for her family. Uncle Vernon was sitting in his high-backed leather arm chair, newspaper on hand. Dudley was sitting in front of the telly, with his toys spread around him on the carpet.

Harry was expecting Thomas Shelby to take him away from his relatives today. Despite the more accommodating behaviour of his aunt and uncle(a ruse, he reminded himself), Harry still wanted Mr. Shelby to claim him. He only hoped the man was nicer than the Dursleys.

"Dad?" Harry lifted his head, looking at Dudley, who was still glued to the telly. Dudley glanced at him quickly and averted his eyes. Harry frowned at his cousin.

Vernon grunted. "What, son?"

"Will Harry come back?" The question clearly took Vernon by surprise. The Dursley patriarch brought his newspaper down to look at his son.

Harry certainly hoped he never would. His eyes met his uncle's briefly, then Vernon buried his face into his morning newspaper again.

"If he wants to, but I doubt it."

And that was that. Dudley did not speak again and neither did Vernon. Harry looked away and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. No one could ever force him to go back to Privet Drive, not if he could help it. Not ever.

The sound of a car engine brought him out of his musings. Harry strained his ears, and he grinned when it seemed as if the sound stopped nearby. He jumped up, nearly ripping the curtains apart, and held his breath.

It was unmistakably Thomas Shelby, with his peaked hat and high-collared shirt, sitting in a car not unlike his uncle's _Ford Model T_. Harry stared as the man got out of the car and crushed a cigarette under his boots. He was not alone, however, and two other men followed suit, both wearing three-piece suits and somewhat similar hairstyle. His eyes widened when he caught sight of a gun holster on one of the men. They did not look mean, but they definitely were out of place in Privet Drive. He winced when the man with the mustache spat on the bed of daffodils. Aunt Petunia would be furious if she saw that.

Harry immediately closed the curtains and stood up from the couch, mindful of his relatives' eyes on him. He did his best to straighten his meager clothes, wanting to be presentable to the man who was about to take him in, and sat back down, grip tight on his bag and chest. Harry almost jumped out of his skin when the knocks came. Quickly, Aunt Petunia ceased her activities in the kitchen and opened the door. Harry could only wait with bated breath.

"Yes?" Harry could see his aunt tremble from his spot. He gathered she had seen the guns on their persons.

"Not sure if it's good to see you again, Cousin Petunia. Thomas Shelby of the Shelby Company Limited." Petunia Dursley paled, stepping back as the men entered the house, despite the lack of invitation. Thomas Shelby now stood in the Dursley entryway, his piercing blue eyes looking around the room. Then, his eyes landed on Harry, and held it there for a moment. There was recognition there, and Harry's heart soared. Harry stared dumbly when the man nodded at him and turned back to Petunia.

"I believe I have a Harry Potter to take off your hands."

* * *

"Tommy! Look at the book, my brother. All on _Monaghan Boy_!" John practically shouted at him as soon as he got in.

Their bookmaking business was in boom, and his horses were making a fair amount of money from all the bets and winning a few races here and there. Despite how it was all operated illegally, Tommy and the rest of the Shelby's were not in trouble. He had lined the cops' pockets well, most of them having served with him in France. Even then, racketeering was only going to get him so far in Birmingham.

Little Finn ran up to him and tugged his coat, beckoning for Tommy to lean down. The boy whispered in his ear and pointed towards Arthur, his older brother, leaning on the door to his office.

"You was seen doing the powder trick down at Garrison Court. The washer women said there were Chinese, that there was a ' _witch_ '." Arthur glowered at Tommy once they were ensconced in Arthur's office.

"Are we fixing races now, Tommy?" Tommy's face remained stoic, his clear, blue eyes merely following Arthur's body language.

"Times are agreed, Arthur." Tommy leaned against the wall. Arthur's mustache bristled. "I'm taking charge of drumming up new money."

"Except you shouldn't have asked for the witch! We can't mess with the Chinese, Tommy." Arthur implored, then he took a large sip of whiskey. "I don't think you have permission from Billy Kimber to be fixing races. If he gets wind of this—", His brother's hand floundered in the air, "What happens if the Monaghan Boy wins? You think we can take on the Chinese and Billy Kimber?!"

"I think, Arthur." Tommy glared at his older brother, a little bit insulted. "That's what I do, and you'll let me do this."

Tommy could see Arthur had finally relented, his brother's tense shoulders dropping at the final words. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but it was time for the Shelbys to rise above everyone else.

"I'm not only here to get yelled at either." Tommy said, pulling up a chair to sit in. He slipped an envelope towards Arthur. His brother straightened up at the site of the letter's sender.

 _From: Petunia Dursley nee Evans  
#4 Privet Drive,  
Little Whinging, Surrey  
_

"What's her deal? We haven't spoken to her in decades, the mad hag." Arthur spat, pushing it back towards Tommy. He pushed it back towards Arthur.

"Read it." Tommy's grim expression had Arthur tentatively reaching for the envelope, unraveling Petunia's story and her subsequent request.

Tommy sat in silence, having snatched his brother's glass of whiskey. He had no qualms drinking heavily in the afternoon, not with the letters contents weighing heavily in his mind.

"Tommy, this says cousin Lily is dead." Arthur whispered, his knuckles paling. "It's been years and this hag didn't seem it fit to tell us. How come we never bothered to check in on her after the war?" His brother looked lost. Tommy had looked the same this morning when he was reading it for himself, like something had just clicked and he was loathe to admit overlooking their now dead relative.

Tommy shook his head, and downed all the whiskey that was left. "As I understand, they were in hiding. You knew how her and her husband had certain... abilities. We hadn't been able to think of her until Petunia mentioned her in this letter. You know they planned it so that no one else were harmed, Arthur."

"They were murdered, and their child orphaned! How—!"

Arthur was openly crying now, his brother's face full of anguish at the loss of their favourite cousin. Lily had always been understanding of Arthur's sensitive nature, and doted upon him as if she was the older one. She also understood how Tommy needed time for himself, and kept Petunia away whenever she was feeling particularly nasty to the 'freakish' cousin Tommy.

He chuckled to himself, certain that Lily would be appalled at what he was willing to do to achieve his goals now. He just hoped he would be forgiven for what he was about to do, for her son's sake.

"She's not entirely gone, Arthur." Tommy stood up, picking up the letter from Arthur's hands. "We'll be taking care of her son, Harry, instead. Petunia obviously doesn't treat Harry like family, but we will. It's the only way Lily will approve of us doing this shite."

* * *

Thomas "Tommy" Shelby was a family man through and through. He may go around people's backs, trying their patience to the point of being threatened to be murdered, but it was for the greater good of his family's and company's future.

He matched Aunt Polly's sharp gaze, letter in hand. Arthur sat at the head of the table, eyes bloodshot from having cried earlier, but hardly looked bothered by what Tommy just told his family. His brother, John, looked worried, and Finn was confused. Tommy didn't think the latter would ever remember Lily or Petunia, having only been seen by either women once when he was still a mere babe. They would need to tell

"Are you sure you're going to take him in, Tommy?" Polly asked. She was reading through the letter again, lips pursing the further she read. She continued, "With your ongoing war with Billy Kimber, the Chinese _,_ and then there's—" Polly's lips thinned, the continued, "It's hardly appropriate for you to raise Harry here." Polly huffed, eyes tightening further as she reached the end of the letter and crumpled it in her fist. Tommy had an idea what Petunia said in the letter made her look like that. The first time he read it, he had wrecked his room. She was already disapproving of where Finn was growing, surrounded by what she considered were 'violent' men at every turn. Knowing this was Lily's child, there was no doubt in Tommy's mind Polly was going to be even more protective of his future charge.

"Cousin Lily chose me and Sirius, in case anything happened to her and James. Well something did and Harry has been left with his hateful relatives. Petunia was a nasty piece of work." Tommy gave Polly a pointed look. "Besides, he's family. We Shelbys are going to be taking care of him."

Arthur, his oldest brother, smiled through his mustache and raised his glass of whiskey to Tommy's words.

"That's all good then. When should we go get him, Tommy?" John said, patting Finn on the shoulder. The latter was the youngest of the Shelby brothers, and was undoubtedly excited at the idea of not being the youngest anymore.

"Will he get to room with me?" Finn chirped.

Tommy inhaled once more from his cigarette and then crushed it under his boot.

"We'll have to get some things ready first."

* * *

Tommy eyed the patrons of the _The Garrison,_ then nodded in the bartender's direction. The pub was owned and ran by Harry Fenton, the tall, portly man who was working behind the counter. Well, not for long if he continues to employ the Shelby _'_ s for "protection". Tommy paid no heed to the blonde woman beside him.

"What's it for ya today, Mr. Shelby?" Fenton told him, his rag circling the counters. Tommy eyed the bowl of piss by his shoes. He turned towards the pub's private room.

"The usual. Please have it brought to the back room and let my brothers know I'm in there." Fenton did not say anymore, and Tommy shut the door behind him.

He was contemplating on whether Harry was faring well in his Aunt's care, when the private room's sliding screen suddenly was forced open. Tommy observed the blonde woman eyeing him with light green eyes and a hint of disdain. He nodded at her and stood up to grab the bottle and glass from her.

"Your drink, sir." Her voice was husky, and her clipped tones amused Tommy even further.

She smelled rich. It reminded him of those folks in London, who would turn their noses up at the sight of his town full of factory workers. As if a horde of decent, working people were a disgrace to society. Her purpose in Watery Lane was a mystery to him. There was nothing he could tell from the way she held herself, except that she was very guarded around him. If there was a reason, Tommy was sure it was not because she was looking to make a career out of being a barmaid in his town.

He dismissed her with a small nod of his head. Tommy felt her eyes linger on his back, before she shut the door with force. If he were any other entitled man, she would have been met by a few of his men at an alleyway, and no one will probably remember her ever working in _The Garrison_. Except, he did not care about her at all. She was a mere blip in his life.

Tommy waited for his brothers patiently, sipping at his glass of whiskey slowly. It was not long before Arthur swaggered in, followed by John and little Finn. He smiled at his youngest brother and beckoned him to sit beside him. Finn happily jumped on the seat, and took an offered glass of water from John.

"Is this supposed to be a family meeting?" John queried, hands already around the whiskey bottle's neck. "Because I don't want to lie around Aunt Polly. She somehow always knows I've omitted something." His face scrunched up and Tommy chuckled.

"No. Can't I spend time with my brothers?" He clinked his glass against Arthur's.

Arthur scoffed. "Funny. I haven't spent time with you since we came back from France."

Silence filled the room. Tommy could see Finn look down at his shoes. John did not say anything but he probably agrees with Arthur if his frown indicated anything. If they were always like this, Tommy was clearly not fit to raise Harry here with them. Knowing cousin Lily, his charge would be as fiery and emotionally tuned to everyone and with his _magic,_ that would be dangerous for him and everyone. Change obviously needed to happen, and fast, before he takes Harry home with him.

"Well that's going to change." Tommy finally said. Finn looked up with a tentative smile. "If Harry's going to be living with us, we won't let him see discord in the family, not with how he's probably been treated at Petunia's."

"Who's Petunia?" Finn asked.

John answered their brother. "She's our cousin. You were still a babe then but we visited her once. We saw cousin Lily more often though. She's Petunia's sister, but Lily lived in Godric's Hollow with her husband, James." John paused, looking Tommy in the eye. He nodded, knowing what John was about to divulge was already something Arthur, him, and John agreed to. Polly had no qualms about them telling about _magic_ to Finn. She loved Lily as if she were her lost daughter, and accepted her as she were. Her beloved niece's child would be loved the same.

"Now Finn, there's something about Harry that's different." John started. "You see, cousin Lily went to a special school in Scotland due to a special trait of hers. That's where she met her husband, James, and he had the same special trait."

Tommy could hear the pub outside getting noisier. At this point, a small riot or a disturbance of some sort was about to start. He stood up to leave John and Arthur to explain the special circumstances surrounding Harry's life. He slid the small door to the side and called for Fenton at the counter. The man looked worried, then a chair crashed against one of the pillars. The whole pub fell into a hush, except one man. His harried breathing and panicked ramblings were familiar to Tommy and he rushed outside.

"Arthur!" His brother was already on his heels. "It's Danny."

Tommy and Arthur almost tackled Danny "Whizz-Bang" on the floor. The man had a broken bottle in his hand, and he swung it dangerously against the other patrons. Arthur caught Danny's wrists, forcing him to drop the offending item. It clattered noisily on the floor. Tommy's voice tried to soothe the paranoid man and force his friend onto the floor.

"Danny! Hey, it's Tommy. We're not in France anymore, Danny." Tommy gripped Danny harder, and the man struggled in return. "We're home, my friend. You're home with your kids and your wife. We're done doing the King's service."

Arthur slowly lessened his grip on their former comrade, and eventually, Danny 'Whizz-Bang' quietened, his sobs almost non-existent at this point. The Shelby brothers helped the man up. Arthur smarted him on the backside of his head before trying to tidy up his clothes. Tommy dusted his friend's clothes off, eyes distant.

The _Flanders Blues_ was common among the men who participated in the war. Tommy had his bouts, but it was nothing that could not be cured with _o_ _pium_. Arthur's was worse, but it was not like Danny's outbursts or paranoia. No, his older brother's was the kind of suffering that left you functional, but it definitely left him unstable and depressed, where he would spend nights by the fire trying not to just off himself. John hid his ailments well, but Tommy knew his younger brother sometimes cured his own _Flanders Blues_ by sneaking some off his stash of opiates.

"T-Tommy? Where am I?" Danny's eyes were watering, awareness coming back to him.

Tommy smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're home, Danny. Go on, go home to your wife and kids. They'll be wanting to know where you've been."

As Danny left the pub, the patrons started to move back to their former spots, righting chairs and tables along with Arthur and Tommy. The latter went to the counter, ordered another drink and downed it all at once.

"This can't go on, Mr. Shelby." Fenton told him as he poured a glass for Arthur as well. "He's going to get in trouble with others that won't tolerate him, _Flanders Blues_ or not."

Tommy pursed his lips, then wiped his face of emotions.

"Just call us if you see him having trouble." Tommy whistled suddenly. "John! Finn! We're going." He ushered his brothers out of the pub, but turned back at the last minute. "Put the damages on the Shelby Company's tab, Fenton. We'll take care of it."

* * *

"He's rooming with me." Tommy said to John, aware of the incredulous expression on his brother's face.

In the past few days, the Shelby's tried to arrange their house and lives in order to prepare for Harry's arrival. Polly had the idea that the child should room with Finn, seeing as the boys were closer in age. Arthur did not care, nor did John, since both had their own homes, and John had his own children to care for.

Tommy had no qualms about living with Aunt Polly and his youngest brother, Finn. He had no vices and he was well off enough to not want anything else. As long as he had a roof over his head and his family at his side, everything else did not matter.

"I had Polly put another bed in my room. It's certainly large enough for both of us. Finn's a growing boy as well, it won't be long until he's begging for a bigger room too."

John made a noise, a sort of whine, and threw his hands up in the air. "You better keep the drugs away, Tommy!"

Arthur snorted. "With these houses, I think the kid will resort to it sooner rather than later. What in the bloody hell thought up a street of houses, completely identical to each other, was a good idea? What a fucking nightmare."

They had just arrived in Surrey, and entered the infamous Privet Drive lane, where Petunia lived with her family. Looking around, Tommy squinted at the identical homes, and vaguely wondered who would subject themselves to such mediocrity.

An old woman with a few cats circling her ankles waved at them, then went on her way towards what looked like was Magnolia Crescent. It seemed odd, and Arthur joked that perhaps she fancied John. His brothers continued to bicker in good nature until Tommy stopped their car in front of the fourth house near the end of the street.

"Is this it then?" John quipped, sticking his out the window. "What an awful hovel, innit? Well boys, let's get to it. The sooner we get Harry out of this place, the sooner he can recover."

They all climbed off the car. Tommy dropped his cigarette stub, and crushed it with his shoes, while John smartened his coat. Tommy saw a brief glint of Arthur's holstered gun, but did not say anything. It was necessary if Petunia caused trouble.

The middle Shelby brother observed the house, noted how clean it was on the outside. Petunia's husband must be well off enough if they had a similar car to his, parked on the driveway. The flowerbeds were neatly trimmed and emphasized the cobblestone steps leading to the front door. A face had peeked through the window on the left side. It was gone as soon as he had seen it. He nudge Arthur forwards, and they all walked to the front door.

"Yes?" Petunia Evans, now Dursley, stared at them with barely hidden disdain and fear. Tommy remembered she was a haughty little thing when they were kids, and thought herself better than them. Now, Tommy was standing in her foyer, hands in his pocket. He had purposefully tucked his coat behind his arms, displaying his own holstered gun.

He looked around the room first, ignoring the trembling woman before him. Everything was boring about the Dursleys' home. Tommy saw many pictures of what he assumed was Petunia's family on the wall, but none displayed any boy that looked like Harry.

Tommy had a view that looked into the living room. Clearly the stout man on the couch was Vernon Dursley, and a similar looking child was sitting on the floor, eyes glued to the telly. Neither of the two acknowledged their presence. Tommy turned back towards Petunia.

"Not sure if it's good to see you again, Cousin Petunia. Thomas Shelby of the Shelby Company Limited." Tommy greeted, lips pulled into a smile. It didn't reach his eyes, but his smiled widened when he saw movement on his left.

There he was. Black mop of hair, piercing green eyes, and fairly decent clothes on a scrawny build. Tommy did not think twice that this was Harry. The child's eyes were full of hope, and looked at him in reverence. He barely kept a lid on his temper at all the signs of abuse and neglect staring at him.

Tommy nodded at Harry then turned back to Petunia. He was no longer smiling when he did so.

"I believe I have a Harry Potter to take off your hands."

Arthur took that as his cue to shoulder his way further into the house, leaving Petunia almost plastered at the wall. His older brother spotted Harry and knelt in front of him, smiling brightly. Tommy stayed back and watched his brother's antics.

"Hi there, bud. You must be Harry, cousin Lily's kid." Arthur stuck his hand out, aware of Harry's wariness. "I'm Arthur, but you can call me Uncle if you want. I'm sure you'd like a nicer one after having an inadequate tub of lard for an uncle so far."

John snickered, and knelt beside Arthur as well. Harry was looking at them wide-eyed, as if disbelieving the events. "I'm John, and I'd like to repeat what my brother just said but I don't want to encourage bad habits." Eventually, Harry seemed to decide that they were harmless and shook hands with both of them. John ruffled Harry's hair and the flinch from the child was missed by no one. John paused for a moment but resumed the action. He looked at Tommy still standing in the foyer.

Tommy stepped forwards, for once a genuine smile on his face. "Hi Harry, I'm your uncle Tommy. What do you say to getting out of here, eh?" He looked towards Arthur, and his brother asked no questions before getting the luggage and chest sitting at Harry's feet. "I promise I'll be out soon enough. I just need to... _speak_ to your relatives here."

Thank goodness for John, ushering the kid outside while distracting him as best as he could. Tommy was at the edge, and his ire could not wait any longer.

Once Harry was accompanied outside by Arthur and John, Tommy turned to the remaining occupants of Number Four Privet Drive. Petunia was now standing by her husband's chair, the latter's face still buried in the newspaper he was pretending to read. Their son was now unabashedly staring at him, one meaty hand constantly dipping into a bowl of popcorn and shoving it in his mouth.

Tommy took out a cigarette from his pack, not caring at the sound of protest from Petunia. He lit it and blew the smoke in Vernon's direction. "I suggest you get your kid to go to his room. This conversation won't be pleasant for children."

Petunia did not need no more prompting as she bullied her son to go to his room. He whined and stomped as he had predicted, shouting the house down for his parents to let him stay and watch. Only Vernon's booming voice had sent the child scampering upstairs. There was a loud bang, and silence ensued. It was occasionally broken by their son's stomping, as if it was going to make a difference.

Petunia braved to break the silence. "What do you want? We've given you Lily's spawn—" There it was.

"I've been keeping myself calm this whole time, because I didn't want to show Harry that side of me yet." Tommy started, flickering his cigarette on the carpet. "I'm disgusted by your behaviour, and sad that Lily isn't here to see the abuse you have been inflicting on her son."

"Now see here, sir! We have given that child a roof above his head, food, and education out of the goodness of our hearts! You're spouting lies!" Vernon's face was turning into an ugly shade of puce as he yelled at him. Tommy briefly thought the buttons on the man's shirt was going to burst out and blind him in the process. Petunia butted in before Tommy could speak.

"Th—That's right! My sister was an abomination and so is he. He should be thankful we didn't throw him out on the streets, or dropped off at an orphanage!"

"You are vile people." Tommy seethed, cigarette forgotten on the floor. "This is your relative, your sister's son, Petunia! If you were in Lily's position, I'm sure she would have cared for your boy with all the love she could muster in her heart. She definitely wouldn't have neglected nor raised a hand towards any child you might have left to her."

"Lily always tried to curry your favor, even when you were inexplicably horrendous to be around with. Now you have inflicted the same scorn to her child, one who has no idea of his origins or if his parents ever loved him."

Petunia bristled even as she gripped Vernon's arm tightly. Tommy's hand had moved towards his gun, and both Dursleys did not miss that. "We did nothing wrong. My freak of a sister's old headmaster insisted we take him in. There was no compensation for the boy, we just did what we could provide for him. We weren't obliged to talk about freakishness, so we didn't!"

"I saw him flinch." Tommy said, staring indifferently at both of them. His anger had reach unfathomable levels, that he could not express it at all or he could be forced to maim someone, perhaps even kill.

"When John ruffled his hair, he flinched from my brother. No kid does that unless he's expecting to be hit. It looks to me that he shall never step foot in this house, or anywhere near where you exist."

Tommy turned around, vowing to never speak to his horrible cousin and her family. He was going to make them miserable, this he promised to himself, for Harry. Shelbys protect their own.

Then Vernon made a mistake.

"Good riddance!" He yelled as Tommy was inches away from the door.

"Vernon!"

"What, Pet? That boy was a nuisance and he wasted our money! I say good riddance to freeloaders! His work certainly wasn't enough for the amount of things we provided for him—"

Vernon fell off the chair, and Petunia shrieked as she watched Thomas Shelby choke the life out of her husband. Without any prompting, Mr. Shelby stood up, leaving a heaving Vernon Dursley on the floor. He was the perfect shade of puce and Tommy sneered at the sight of him whimpering, Petunia holding her husband close.

"If I hear any more filth about Harry, I will have you wishing for death." Tommy picked up his peaked flat cap near Vernon's foot. The man flinched and Tommy nearly snarled his next words. "Believe me, my associates will know, Dursley. Good day to you."

With those parting words, Tommy spun on his heel and stalked out of number four Privet Drive.


	2. Chapter 2: Sedition

Harry was easily distracted by John and Arthur's stories of Birmingham, and the people that lived there. They went on about how they were going to teach him how to be a Shelby, how they were going to show him the various horses they owned, and so on.

Despite all the chatter, Harry could not help but look towards number four Privet Drive. Tommy was taking an awfully long time talking to the Dursleys. For a moment, Harry feared that he was going to be sent back to his awful relatives. There was no doubt Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia was telling Tommy lies, and perhaps the man ended up believing them.

When Thomas Shelby came out of the house, only did Harry sag in relief. He was vaguely aware of John telling him about someone named Polly, but the chatter stopped when Tommy got into the driver's seat. The man took out a cigarette but put it away when his eyes saw Harry's on the rear view mirror.

"Well, Harry, I can't say it was nice to meet your relatives, nor my cousin Petunia." The corner of Tommy's eyes crinkled, and Harry could just imagine the smile he was given earlier. "But that doesn't matter anymore, since as of today, you're part of the Shelby family."

"A-are you sure?" Harry could not help but voice out his worries.

No adult had ever believed him, and school was no better. The principal played poker or drank every weekend with Uncle Vernon, and so the teachers at his primary school were warned of his apparent trouble-making tendencies.

"I don't want to be a bother. The Dursleys... I can do chores and stuff—" Harry thought of other things he could do, like weeding and cooking, but Tommy cut him off before he could say anything else.

"You'll never be a bother, Harry. You're part Shelby, and as I said, we protect our own."

That statement left Harry in awe. John and Arthur, as rowdy as ever, echoed each other's yells of agreement. Tommy said no more as they drove away from Privet Drive.

Tommy eyed the scrawny boy through the rear mirror. He could not help but observe Lily's boy, having seen so much of the boy's mother in him. Arthur and John kept him sequestered between them and regaled him of tales, albeit censored, of their escapades in France.

Harry did not talk too much, more content with listening to Arthur and John's ramblings. He did not think the stories were really appropriate for Harry to hear, especially when John went into detail of how they would have to stay in the trenches for a long time, and how some people's feet rotted. Finn would have said 'cool!' at any gory parts, but Harry looked like he sympathized with what they went through instead.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Tommy damned the Dursleys to hell in his mind.

Halfway through the trip, Harry fell asleep, and they did not bother waking him up when they finally arrived in Birmingham. Polly greeted them and fussed over the sleeping boy, before she let John carry Harry upstairs to Tommy's room. Arthur bid them all good night before turning in for the day. Ada was nowhere to be seen. No matter, Tommy was sure she would have time to see Harry tomorrow.

Tommy stood by his doorway and watched Harry sleep. It did not look like a peaceful one, and he struggled to not wake up his nephew. He had only ever observed this behaviour in Arthur, just as they got back from France. John, not so much, but the walls between their rooms were thin, and Tommy had heard enough to know his younger brother also suffered in his dreams each night.

A hand touched his shoulder and he looked to see Aunt Polly beside him. In the dim light, Polly's face seemed to have aged in just a few hours. She tried earlier to not show as much emotion, but seeing Harry must have hit something close to home.

"Petunia grew up into a spiteful, jealous woman. I don't understand how she could treat Lily's child like this." She was disgusted, and so was Tommy. "I had... I had wished nothing untoward happened to Michael and Anna. I can only hope they haven't befallen to the same fate as Harry."

Kin was precious to them, and the conditions in which Harry was subjected to was unfathomable to Tommy. Family was the most important thing in the world, and he had resorted to all kinds of illegal activity just to keep his own family safe. He thought briefly about Ada and Freddie Thorne, but shook himself out of that rabbit hole. There were some plans already brewing for his sister and his old friend.

"I reckon he won't be used to how we do things. We'll take it slow with him." Tommy said, contemplating on what to do for Harry. "He'll have to go to school. I can just tell he's as bright as Lily, probably even more so. It's about time Finn goes back as well. We've neglected his schooling for a while now."

Polly gave him a nod, a grimace on her face. "That we will do. We'll set an example for Lily's boy before he goes to _that_ school."

That gave Tommy pause. "We'll think about that next time. I'm not sure I want to send Harry there." He remembered the wizard that ran the school, who visited Lily and James often at their home in Godric's Hollow. Tommy had been sure at the time that the grandfatherly persona was a facade. Even if it was untrue, he will be sure to thread lightly around the man. Before, he always made sure to excuse himself to smoke whenever the man visited.

Polly then left and Tommy climbed into his own bed. Harry's nightmares seemed to have passed. Tommy watched his nephew until the steady rise and fall of Harry's chest lulled him to sleep, for once forgoing the hidden opium in his drawer.

* * *

Harry awoke with a start and he huddled towards the corner of the room, his blankets almost burying him. He was in an unfamiliar room with dark brown wallpapers, and he was not the only person in the room. Harry half expected Uncle Vernon to come yelling into the room, but all he heard were the light snores of the person on the other bed.

Closing his eyes quickly, Harry opened them again and was disappointed to find that the scene did not change. He eyed the window above him. Perhaps he could look outside and figure out from there where he was. His eyes darted towards the sleeping person then quickly peered out the window.

Harry did not recognize the street, nor the houses. It was definitely no Privet Drive, and there were no lawns, just gravel-filled street and a very wide building that looked to be as long as two blocks with multiple doors on it. There were children playing outside as well, and men carrying barrows filled with sacks and dark things. In the distance, he could see smoke coming out of a factory, a crane, and unfinished iron buildings.

"Awake are we?"

Harry's heart must have jumped a mile away when he heard the voice. He spun around quickly to see his Uncle Tommy sitting up on the bed. Harry immediately felt silly at forgetting where he was.

"Uncle.. Tommy?" Inside, Harry was ecstatic to see the person he considers to be his rescuer. It meant that his life at Privet Drive was officially over.

The man smiled. "That's right. You had an alright sleep? I think you might have had nightmares last night."

Harry duck his head, unwilling to admit his troubles but the man was not Vernon. He had to remind himself that now, if he really wanted to get away from the Dursleys' shadow. Still looking at his lap, he nodded. He heard the rustling of sheets and then felt a new weight on his bed. Uncle Tommy laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You see, I have them too." Harry's eyes widened at that, and he looked up at the man but Tommy was staring past Harry's head. "Arthur and John too. You won't remember since you were just a babe, but there was a war. People fought each other and I was sent away, to France, along with my brothers. It was to fight for our country, but we had no choice in the matter and that's why I have nightmares."

Harry could not fathom fighting with anyone, not after having been Dudley's target for years. His uncle's eyes turned towards him, and he was met with a bright smile.

"So if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, you can come bother me and I'll listen to anything you want to tell me, alright?"

Confiding his fears and secrets to anyone was a novel idea, so Harry nodded happily at that. Tommy beckoned him to wash up and get dressed for breakfast. Harry shook his head at the suggestion of the man helping him bathe, and took his new clothes with him to the bathroom. It did not take him long before he was dressed up in an olive green pine shirt, shorts, long dark grey socks, and a pair of dark brown leather lace-up shoes. He sighed at the sight of his hair.

When he came out to meet his uncle, Tommy was already dressed impeccably in a similar suit to yesterday's.

"Come on, lad. We'll have breakfast and then I'll show you Birmingham."

Harry tottered after Tommy, straining his ears for any noises as they descended the stairs. He could hear the distinct sounds of metal clinking against ceramic, and once he reached the ground floor, Harry was met with the sight of several people on the dining table.

A stern looking woman, Polly if his memory was right, was serving everyone breakfast, her kohl eyes darting upwards to look at him. Harry was relieved when a smile appeared on the woman's face and she inclined her head towards a chair.

Arthur sat in one, his back towards Harry. There was also a younger woman, whose heart-shaped face was obviously another Shelby. She did not look too happy at the sight of Tommy but she smiled at Harry nonetheless. John was nowhere to be found.

Harry sat beside Arthur, and Tommy sat on his other side.

"Everyone, this is Harry." Tommy said as he put food on Harry's plate. The boy flushed at the attention on him, but Arthur's smiling eyes made him feel more relaxed.

Harry greeted everyone, more confident than when he entered the room.

The young woman he thought was named Ada, reached her hand towards him, and Harry gaped at it before he shook it. "Hi Harry, I'm your Aunt Ada." Harry greeted her back and said nothing further since she looked preoccupied with something.

Arthur patted his back. "Right, Harry. Don't go making trouble around Ada! She's been a right snit at me since forever." Harry gave a tentative grin. It looked like that livened up Ada a bit as she yelled an indignant 'hey!' at Arthur. A giggle caught Harry's attention.

He looked to Tommy's left and there sat an older boy that looked more like John than anyone. Harry spied the cigarette holder peeking out of a pocket, which the boy pushed down quickly.

His toothy grin however made Harry less nervous. "Hiya, Harry! I'm Finn. Everyone says I'm your uncle, but that might be weird. Just call me Finn." Arthur's snort was ignored. The boy's hand was outstretched, and Harry got up to shake it behind Tommy's back. It would have been rude to shake hands in front of his Uncle when he was eating.

After the pleasantries, Harry sat down to eat the food Tommy put on his plate. He was grateful to see that it was not any of the fatty bacon or sausages. Harry was able to stomach the porridge and buns better. He did force down the glass of milk offered by Aunt Polly.

Once he was done, Tommy turned to him, cigarette stuck between his teeth. "Now, Harry, I have some business to attend to. But I promise right after to take you to see the town, alright?" Harry nodded at his uncle, pleased at the hand that ruffled his hair.

Once Ada went upstairs and both Arthur and Tommy had gone out, Aunt Polly shoo'd both Finn and Harry out of the kitchen.

"But I- I can help clean up, if you'd like Aunt Polly." Harry piped up before flushing. When he looked up, Aunt Polly was smiling widely. Harry was curious about her sudden watery eyes.

"Oh you sweet boy. The kitchen is no place for children. Go on and play with Finn. I'll take care of everything."

Harry was disappointed but let Finn drag him out the door and onto the streets.

"Why'd you offer to help clean up? You're too tiny to help in the kitchen." Finn said, taking out a cigarette to stick between his lips. Harry stared curiously at that. "Also I'm banned from the kitchen after I almost lobbed my head off. Don't ask by the way. Anyway, I can show you where the family business is."

Both boys winded through the streets, passing children, women, and soot covered men. These were people that the inhabitants of Privet Drive would have looked down their noses at. Harry did not understand the prejudice against them. They looked like very hardworking people, and he was always told by his previous relatives that if he worked hard, maybe he would not be a hooligan. For a time, Harry had believed that, but now he knew he was never going to be a hooligan, unless he wanted to be like Dudley, and he certainly did not want that.

They then stopped in front of a building with a lot of foot traffic. Once Finn pushed the doors to the building open, Harry stared in wonder at the busy men in suites and the piles of coins on multiple tables. Most of them seem to be focused on the man by the front of the room. Harry's eyes lit up when he saw it was John, toothpick in his mouth and yelling names he had never heard of before.

"See this is where I usually hang if the betting shop's too too loud or boring, there's a room beyond those doors,—" Finn pointed to a set of double doors. "—which is where we Shelbys have family meetings. Come on."

There were plush furniture and a cozy fireplace to sit by. Finn sat by one of the chairs by the dining table, and he lit his cigarette by the fire burning brightly in the hearth.

"Why do you do that?" Harry finally asked.

Finn looked at him. "Do what?"

"Smoke. Isn't that bad?"

Finn shrugged. "I'll be eleven next week. Besides, it doesn't hurt Arthur, Tommy, or John. I figured it'll be fine."

Harry was skeptical at that but remained mum on the subject. He had hated it when Vernon smoked his tobacco in the house. It was one thing that Aunt Petunia did not like, and sometimes Vernon relented but otherwise would only do it when she was not in the house. Harry exhaled loudly, and looked around.

Tommy then showed up, and Finn put out his cigarette but missed the hearth.

Tommy looked at Harry, then bent down to pick up the cigarette then threw it into the fireplace. "You haven't been corrupting your nephew, are you Finn?"

"Harry's too good for this." Finn says, worried grin on his face. "Are you taking him around now?"

"Yes. Come on, Harry. There isn't a lot to show you but it helps to know where you are around the city." Tommy said, running a hand down Harry's head.

Harry nodded, waving goodbye to Finn.

"Aren't you mad Finn smokes?" Harry said as he followed his uncle back into the betting place. They were met by John, holding a big ledger to show Tommy.

"I wish he didn't do it, but Finn is a good kid." Tommy says as he checks off something in the ledger. John gives the small boy a wink before he goes back to the board with the waiting men.

"Now," Tommy crouched down to Harry's level. "This is our betting shop. We collect bets for horse racing. We've got a few of our own race horses down by the dock, cared for by Charlie and Curly."

After, Tommy showed Harry the docks, and the boy met Charlie and Curly. They had taken a liking to him immediately, as his quiet nature reminded them of Tommy. Harry beamed at the comparison, and that's when Charlie laughed and said, "At least this one's still got his cheerfulness, eh Tommy."

Harry got to see a white horse, with red dusting on its nose. It was not as great as he thought it would be, but Tommy showed him a bit of how to ride a horse. He grumbled lightly about his sore bum as Tommy helped him off the horse, and this got a chuckle out of his usually serious uncle.

Charlie had asked them to come back sometime, and Harry promised to. They crossed the bridge towards an small Italian bakery, and Tommy let him pick a snack to eat as they toured the city. A portly man with thinning hair smiled at Harry, but the man's demeanor changed as soon as he saw who was with the boy.

"Mr. Shelby." The man gave him a small nod. "Who is this child if I might ask?"

Harry watched curiously at the interaction. "This is my nephew. Harry, this is Mr. Sangre. He is a good friend, understand?"

Not knowing the meaning of the emphasis on 'good friend', Harry nodded and thanked the man for the pastry. As they left, Harry looked back at Mr. Sangre standing by his shop door. He was no longer smiling, but had a suspicious look on his face as he stared at Harry's retreating form.

"Now, I don't want you to feel bored around here but you cannot go out by yourself. At the very least do not go to the docks alone. It's dangerous there, as some other parts in this city are, but I'd rather not hear about you drowning." Tommy said as they approached a pub, _The Garrison_ displayed above its door. "Unfortunately, our business attracts. . . admirers and enemies alike. "You might be too young for this, but it doesn't hurt to know."

They entered the pub and many of the pub's patrons greeted Tommy. Harry followed his uncle closely to the bar, and the man offered Tommy a glass of whiskey before noticing Harry.

"And who might this be, Mr. Shelby? Your son, sir?" Harry flushed at the assumption. He badly wanted to say, ' _Yes!'_ , but knew it was a lie.

"This is Harry, my nephew. Only arrived last night." Tommy said as he helped Harry up on a stool. "Another Shelby you'll be seeing around here. Hopefully he doesn't frequent this pub until he's of age."

Harry shook his head. "No thank you. Uncle Vernon drank, and he was meaner when he did." He said, looking at his hands. Silence fell between the two men.

"Not to worry, Harry. You'll never become like that man, you hear me?" Tommy assured the boy.

"Over my dead body."

Harry felt a chill pass him as he heard the conviction, and found that his uncle's clear blue eyes had the intensity that made the statement truer than anything he had ever known.

* * *

It took a while before Aunt Polly was able to arrange schooling for Harry and Finn. Even John was hounded by Aunt Polly to take his children to school, which he eventually relented to.

Tommy Shelby had not set foot in any academic establishment not since before the war. He had attempted to abandon the Shelby way of life, and attend a university in London. All his efforts were thwarted as war loomed over England. Once he arrived back from France, he was a changed man, and schooling had become a privilege he did not feel was worth pursuing anymore. For Harry, it was a different story. So Tommy diligently drove his nephew to and from school and encouraged the boy to do his best in everything he did.

In the span of a few weeks, Harry had adjusted well to living with the Shelbys. He had taken a liking to the horses, and took riding lessons from Charlie every weekend. The boy had come out of his shell a bit. Although he had his bouts of brooding, Tommy felt it was healthy for the boy to have time for himself. Aunt Polly protested against it, considering it an unhealthy behaviour, but Tommy would just remind her of his subsequent return from the war and any retort would die in her throat. Tommy felt it was cruel, but it was what it was.

"I fear the boy might become like you someday." She had said once, all pursed lips and hurt kohl eyes directed away from him. Tommy did not respond but felt an ache in his chest at the words.

The possibility of Harry becoming like Tommy was undeniable. While they were both prone to brooding, it was mostly Harry's idolatry of his uncle that assured the rest of the Shelbys why he would end up like Tommy Shelby. The boy was not used to having adults that cared for him, and so was still reluctant to ask for help. Harry had an incredibly bright mind not unlike Lily's, coupled with her stubbornness, that had Tommy feeling cold. He had seen the same intensity in the boy's eyes when he was committed to achieving something, and it reminded him of his time in the tunnels of France.

"There's something about the boy, Tommy." Charlie told him as they watched Curly entertain Harry by the grates of the dock. Tommy had his men install metal fences just before the canal to prevent any accidents that might befall Harry.

"There's this power about him." Tommy's eyes darted to the side, eyeing Charlie. He had not mentioned Harry's abilities to anyone but Arthur, John, Ada, Polly and Finn. John's children were simply too young to know, and Finn would never tell a family secret to outsiders.

"I've seen him get mad. I know, little Harry, mad? He was frustrated at a particular jump he couldn't make the horse go through. I told him it was all fine, that no one expected a five year old to achieve something so advanced. I didn't want him to exhaust himself and fall down, so I beckoned him to jump off." Charlie sucked in his breath between teeth. "The tenacity in the boy's eyes threw me off. The wind picked up and clouds swirled above us. It was such a nice day and it had turned sour in a second. It was as if the gods were with Harry, and were as frustrated as the boy." He shook his head. "Then he took off. I couldn't hold the reign quickly enough."

"Christ, Charlie. You have to take care of Harry better." Tommy said, his mind in turmoil. He forgot about how emotions were tied to magic. He had seen Lily grow flowers in her palm as a child, and throw a bully ten feet away without touching them. This was a bit of a problem.

"He was fine at the end." Charlie pointed to a rack behind them. "He got Monaghan to jump above that." Tommy's eyebrows raised. Damn.

Curly approached them with Harry in tow, and the boy held up slimy hands at Tommy. He eyed the small garter snake with slight unease.

"Look what I found, Uncle Tommy. It talks!" Harry beamed at him, seemingly proud of his discovery.

Tommy frowned, and lowered the boys hands. He crouched to Harry's level.

"Are you sure, Harry?" He asked, and the nod was all he needed. He was not going to question the boy's sanity. It was not in Harry's nature to lie, but Tommy was still unsure how his child rearing skills were faring, and perhaps the rebellion was only just starting. "I trust you're not lying. What did the snake say, lad?" He said gently to his nephew.

"It said that I'm a serpent speaker." Harry furrowed his brows. "What does serpent mean? It also wants a nice mouse for a snack, and min— minnows?"

Tommy exchanged looks with Charlie and Curly, the latter fidgeting with his hat. Charlie's eyes were telling him, ' _I told you so'._ Tommy could only sigh and smile at Harry.

"We'll do that, come on. It's going to be hard to find him any rodents when the sun sets."

As he left the docks with Harry, Tommy felt exhaustion come over him. He was wont to tell Harry to suppress any unusual abilities, but felt that might stifle his growth and confidence in his new guardians. His nephew was progressing well for someone who had come from an abusive and neglectful household. It was only a matter of time before that happy bubble bursts, and he was not going to see it harm his relationship with his nephew.

It was time to confer with the rest of the family at the meeting tonight.

* * *

After the children were tucked in, Tommy, Arthur, Polly, John, and Ada had gathered in the betting shop. His brothers and Polly seem concerned about something, and if he had to guess it was not about their rivals in the betting world.

Arthur spoke first. "Right, I've called this family meeting because I've got some important news. Last night, our men were in Belfast buying stallions to cover their mares. They were in a Shankhill road pub, and there was a copper handing out these."

Arthur passed on leafs of paper to everyone. Tommy took in the words, '' _If you're over five feet tall and can fight, come to Birmingham."_

"They're recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as Specials." Arthur said, taking his time to take a swig out of a whiskey bottle.

Ada frowned. "To do what exactly?"

"To clean up the city, Ada." Tommy piped up. Arthur eyes widen, clearly surprised at Tommy knowing what was going on. Polly had an unconcerned facade but her eyes had met Tommy's briefly. It promised, _'We have to talk later.'_

"He's a Chief Inspector. Over the last four years, he's been cleaning out the IRA out of Belfast."

Arthur bristled. "How do you know so much?"

Tommy shrugged. "I asked the cops on our payroll." That seemed to anger Arthur even more, and he had slammed the bottle on the table.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His brother gritted.

Tommy stared at him. "I'm telling you now."

John then spoke up, in an attempt to lighten the tension between his brothers. "So why has he been sent to Birmingham?"

Tommy continued staring at Arthur until his older brother looked away. He was bitter, Tommy knew. He had been planning and keeping secrets, and knew Arthur felt out of the loop in their family business. As far as Tommy was concerned, he would rather keep things to himself rather than blurt it out and it all goes to shit. It was better to see his plans come to fruition before announcing it to the world. If he needed his family's help, he would come to them. In time.

"There have been a lot of strikes in the Austen works and BSA factory lately. The papers are spouting it's sedition. Revolution. I reckon it's the Communists he's after."

There was a look of understanding that passed through his family's faces. Ada was particularly fidgety. Tommy would bet it was because Freddie Thorne, his comrade and former friend, was one of the instigators of the rebellions. It was dangerous waters Ada was wading in being associated with a known communist. Tommy could only hope threats and a bit of bribery would work to mitigate the growing situation, but it looks like he would have to resort to even more underhanded tricks. This was definitely not a good time to be raising a child in.

"So the copper will leave us alone?" Polly asked, a prim eyebrow rose. She stared hard at Tommy. His aunt was now incredibly suspicious of him, it was unavoidable with him displaying his knowledge of the situation. Unbeknownst to Tommy and Polly, everyone was watching them. A confrontation seemed inevitable between the two powerhouses of the family.

Tommy matched Polly's stare. "There are Irishmen who left Belfast, apparently to get away from him. They say Catholic men that crossed him used to disappear in the night."

John looked around and got to his feet. "Well we're not the IRA. We bloody fought for the king!" He scoffed. "Anyway, we're the _Peaky Blinders_. The coppers can't touch us. But if they come for us, we'll cut them a smile each." And with that, John grabbed his peaked flat cap, the glint of a blade visible in the rim of his hat.

Tommy stepped to the burning fireplace next to Aunt Polly and chucked in the flyer. He then looked back at Arthur, gesturing a hand towards his brother. "Is that all Arthur?"

Polly got to her feet. "This family does everything open. You have nothing more to say, Tommy?"

Ah. Tommy's piercing blue eyes swept the room before landing on Polly's. "Nothing that's women's business." Silence befell the room.

"When you boys were away at war, this whole enterprise was 'women's business'. What's changed?" Polly gritted out.

Tommy sighed in his mind. "We came back."

Finally, Tommy gestured for Arthur and John, and they left the shop. He could just hear the beginnings of a growl from Polly's lips as they left.

Later that night, Tommy strode towards the church alone. The dark hall and piercing eyes of the carved angels did not deter him from approaching a dark figure kneeling in one of the pews. Polly Grey held a rosary in her hands, black veil primly sat on her head. She did not move as Tommy slid into the seat behind her.

Tommy waited patiently as his aunt finished her prayers. She was evidently cross with him, and he contemplated lying to her. Not everything always had to be divulged, but this was Aunt Polly, and he understood that she was only concerned for the whole family. Besides, if there was anyone he would confide in, it was her. After a while, she finally signed the cross and sat back in the seat.

"What do you want? I have ten minutes." Tommy said.

"An explanation."

"Of what?"

Polly scoffed. "Of what's so secret." She paused. "I've always been able to tell—"

"Tell what?"

"—when you're hiding something."

Tommy let out a weary breath. Fuck ten minutes.

"People around here talk. Some of them work at the BSA." Polly twists to look at Tommy behind her. "I have been talking to the wives in particular. Of the factory hands. There are detectives that have been asking questions in the proofing shops."

Tommy found his voice. "About what?"

Polly tittered. "Nothing happens in the factory without you knowing it. How about you tell me." She sighed. "Speak. God and Aunt Polly are listening."

Tommy braced himself for the inevitable. "It was supposed to be routine. I had a buyer in London who wanted motorcycles. So I asked my men to steal four petrol engine motorcycles. There's a still in the factory that makes gin. My boys must have gotten drunk and they grabbed the wrong fucking crate. . ."

"Well, what was in it?"

Tommy sighed. "They delivered it to Charlie's yard. In it were twenty Lewis machine guns with ten thousand rounds of ammunition. Fifty semi-automatic rifles, two hundred pistols with shells—"

Polly's eyes had widened in shock and interrupts. "Tell me you threw it in the cut!"

"— all bound for Libya. It's still there, sitting in Charlie Strong's yard. We... put them in the stables, out of the rain. None of them have been greased yet."

He did not expect the assault but took it anyway. Polly punched and hammered on his arms, and Tommy, feeling like he deserved it, let her blow her steam out before grabbing her hands. Tommy put on an apologetic expression before wiping his face of it.

"You are not doing this. Not when you've got Harry to take care of!" Polly shouts, frustration unfastening the veil on her head. She looks visibly shaken and angry, disappointment trickling into her features. "You will tell Charlie to dump them tonight. If you sell this to anyone who has use for it, you will hang. It's no wonder they sent that copper from Belfast."

Tommy sighed. "Maybe, maybe not..."

Polly pursed her lips. "Your mother's common sense and your father's devilry are clashing. I suggest you let your mother's common sense win."

Tommy stood up, intending to end the confrontation. "He won't move contraband under a full moon. Let it wane. Three days and then we will get rid of it."

"I hope so, Tommy. For this family's sake, enough is enough."

Tommy did not bother to answer, and he turned on his heels to leave.

* * *

Harry awoke with a weight on his chest. As he opened his eyes, he saw the garter snake he had found the day before, it's tongue slipping out to taste the air. He smiled. He had named the reptile, Odeus. His Uncle Tommy had certainly approved of such a fine name, and even helped him get food for his new companion.

 _Are you done resting, speaker? You humans hibernate for too long. Why, I had already eaten five mice today! Laziness is unbecoming, young speaker._

Harry grinned. He placed the snake on his bed before going over to his wardrobe. _"Yes, I am done. Have you seen my guardian?"_ He picked out some clothes before going to the adjacent bathroom. In it, he could barely hear Odeus.

 _He left just before dawn. He seemed like he was being chased by an owl._

Harry came out of the bathroom, eyeing Odeus. " _You mean he was in a hurry? I haven't seen him since last night._ " Harry sighed. _"I was hoping to show him something."_

 _The dour man always comes back. What will you show him today?_

" _I was hoping to show him my magic._ "

In the past few weeks, he had become accustomed to the Shelby life. He went to school and did not get bullied for being the _freak._ Despite that, he was still avoided by the children, preferring to play among themselves. There were instances where the children would seem to be forced to play with him, and while that was fine, Harry was still baffled by their treatment of him. He was confused because there had not been any accidents with his magic, and he has been the perfect student and child.

Finn had the knowing look and merely clapped him on the back, congratulating him for being a proper Shelby.

"Don't worry about it." Finn had assured him. "Their parents probably warned them against offending you in any way. We Shelbys take care of our own, and they're afraid Tommy might get mad at them if you got upset."

It was an unsettling answer that Harry did not expect. Was his uncle a bad man? From his experience, it seemed that the people of Birmingham respected Tommy Shelby. They greeted him, and his uncle greeted them back, like a polite person should.

"But Uncle Tommy wouldn't do that." He argued, and all he received from his young uncle was a shrug.

From then on, Harry observed even harder whenever he was with his uncle. He had witnessed, behind the somewhat awed faces, there lied a hint of fear in their eyes when they interacted with Tommy Shelby. Arthur didn't incite the same reaction, and neither did John. There was a bit of fear, but it was unlike their reception of Tommy.

Harry had yet to figure out why there was such a huge discrepancy in their treatment of the Shelbys, but shook the thought out of his head. His poised uncle was a good man for getting him out of the Dursleys. He had three meals a day and more, a bed, and family that cared for him. He had not been punished, but as he had seen from Finn's punishments, it did not involve the withholding of food. The only thing he had to dread was a reprimand and a long lecture from any of the older Shelbys.

 _And you think that is a good idea? Remember the walrus you call an uncle from your previous habitat?_

Harry shook his head no. " _He's not like that. If Uncle Vernon had seen me with you, I probably would have been beaten up by Dudley and chucked to the shed. No, Uncle Tommy's good. He let me keep you after all._ " Harry shrugged. _"I don't feel worried. If anything he might have known about how my parents were wizards."_

Harry had taken a long time before he came to the decision to reveal his magic to his new family. He only hoped their view of him would not change. Thus, he had been practicing tricks, ones he had seen on the telly sometimes, and some that he copied from a circus act his uncle had taken him to see once. Harry was careful to not practice anywhere where anyone could see him. Curly had been gracious enough to keep his secret and let him practice his magic in an unused brick stable in Charlie's yard. The latter had given him knowing looks, and not even a hint of surprise when Harry had accidentally fallen off a horse and floated to the ground. Neither had spoken about it, and Charlie gestured to zip his lips when Harry opened his mouth to say something. With his secret safe, and relieved to have found trustworthy allies in Birmingham, Harry decided it was time to trust his family.

Washed and dressed, he set out to find his uncle. He saw Aunt Polly downstairs and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Aunt Polly tapped his bum and told him to take a seat, as breakfast was going to be ready in a bit.

"Had a good sleep, Harry?"

"Yes. I was wondering where Uncle Tommy was." Harry asked, thanking his aunt for the food laden plate he had been given. He did not miss the pinched expression on her face at the mention of his uncle. "I was hoping to show him something?"

"I'm afraid Tommy is a bit occupied today. If I ever see your other uncles, I'll let them know you're looking for him." Harry hung his head as he spooned some scrambled eggs in his mouth. Then he perked up, looked around, before swallowing his food.

"Aunt Polly?"

She hummed. "Would— would you like to see something that I can do? It's something that Aunt Petunia hated, and so did the rest of her family." Harry bit his lips, refusing to look at his aunt. "I was hoping to show Uncle Tommy. But since you're here, I— I'd like for you to see it."

Aunt Polly was intrigued and so gestured for him to continue. "I've been practicing with Curly and Charlie, on my riding lessons."

Harry braced himself, giving Polly a tentative smile, then he opened his palms. Light emitted from his palm, and the twisting multi-colored beams twisted around each other. For a second, the beams pulsed and then it exploded into butterflies of different sizes. A particular cerulean butterfly landed on Polly's hand.

After years of mistreatment, Harry could not avoid but feel fear at the repercussions of his actions. When he looked at Aunt Polly, instead of anger, her face was filled with awe and her eyes watery.

"Aunt Polly?" Harry tentatively looked at her. "Do you think I'm a freak?"

The awe disappeared and in its place was shock and a fierceness Harry could not pinpoint. Aunt Polly swept him into her arms and hugged him tightly.

"Of course not, Harry! Why would you think that?" She pulled away to cup his face. "You're a very special boy. I think it was brilliant what you did. I knew your mother grew flowers, with just her magic as well, when she was just a child."

Harry gaped, elated at the bit he had been told about his mother. "Really?"

"Of course, dear. We were not sure if you had her abilities, so we didn't press on it but we had our suspicions. It was entirely up to you to reveal them to us." Aunt Polly smiled. "In this family, you have a choice. Only keep in mind that choices must be thoroughly thought through, and no harm should ever come to any Shelbys. Understood?"

Harry nodded, happy that someone from his family had accepted him.

"I can do other things, but Charlie told me to not do it in the house." Harry said sheepishly. Aunt Polly raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Well, if Charlie has told you against it, then we should keep that promise then, eh?" Polly smiled when Harry nodded. "Now go ahead and finish your food. I'll have someone fetch you from here, perhaps Finn, and you can go gallivanting outside. It's only right for you to enjoy this nice day."

Harry happily tuck into his food. Once he was done, he gave Aunt Polly a hug and a promise of more amazing tricks to show her. Finn met him just outside the door, and the two set off in the direction of the betting shops.

"I showed Aunt Polly my magic." Harry finally confessed. "I— I could show you some things I can do too."

Finn grinned, a knowing grin on his face. "I was waiting for this day, you know. You can show me later, though. Tommy's in the betting shop and I know you've probably been looking for him since you woke up."

Harry gave him a sheepish grin. They pushed past the doors of the betting shop, and once again, it was full of noise and piles of coins filled each table. He immediately spotted the man he was looking for and headed straight to him.

Tommy Shelby's leg was tackled by a small figure, and he smiled warmly at Harry.

"Harry," Tommy greeted. The child looked happy, and even the light in the boy's eyes was brighter somehow. "I just received word from Mrs. Changretta that you've been doing very well at school. Well enough to move you up, if you'd like to that is."

Harry nodded. "I wouldn't mind. I've already learned what we were learning from Dudley's books. Aunt Petunia bought them for him, but my cousin only ever wanted to stomp on them or hit me with them."

Tommy's eyebrows raised. Harry merely shrugged. "I'm not even sure if he could read them."

Tommy chuckled, amused at the nonchalance his nephew was displaying. The boy had really come a long way from being the meek little boy that he was.

"I'll be sure to pass along your agreement then." He said, then strained his ears as John whispered to him.

"The copper arrived last night. Johnny Dogs almost went and joined the recruits, but he's seen the men Campbell's employing earlier today. Bunch of BSA hands and—", John gave him a wink. "—a handful of our men. Just in case."

Tommy nodded, reluctant to discuss that particular line of work within Harry's hearing. It was a good thing the boy was occupied by an animated Finn. He sighed. His youngest brother was certainly developing a nasty habit of smoking. Tommy ought to snatch the carton of smokes hidden in Finn's breast pocket.

"Right, thank you, John."

He turned to Harry and Finn. "What would you say if we went for a bit of horse riding and visiting friends, hm? There's no guarantee there will be ice cream after."

After some wriggling that could have been a dance and shouts of elation, Tommy led his nephew and brother out of the betting shop. Outside, Jeremiah had absconded him to slip a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Tommy feighned a greeting, before the man left him and comtinued preaching the word of God to the public again.

"What a loud man." Harry commented, looking back curiously at Jeremiah. "Why does he shout stuff from the bible?"

"He's a preacher, Harry." Tommy said. "And a good friend."

Tommy didn't read the paper until Charlie and Curly had taken his nephew and brother's attention away. He watched the boys and their galloping horses before he looked in his hands. Rage filled him immediately and he crushed the paper under his boot.

Son of a bitch.

Tommy pretended to be chipper and joined Harry with his own horse. The black stallion he was riding easily kept up with Harry's own. After the ride, Tommy brought them to the Italian district, where the promised ice cream was. In continuing his unfazed facade, he indulged in a scoop of ice cream as well, which surprised Finn greatly that his brother tumbled down the bench and ended up with ice cream down his shirt.

As promised, he visited the Changrettas home. Friend was not really the word he would use for them, but for Harry's sake, they were for now. Mrs. Changretta greeted them at the door, and Tommy conveyed that he would like Harry moved up with peers of the same intellect.

"That's wonderful, dear." Mrs. Changretta crooned. "Won't you come in and have some tea? This calls for a bit of a celebration."

Tommy looked towards Finn and Harry and saw their lack of enthusiasm. "I think another day, Mrs. Changretta. I believe both boys have had enough of an adventure today."

"Of course. Do come next time, then." She smiled down at Harry. "I'll see you in school on Monday, young man."

Harry and Finn bid Mrs. Changretta goodbye. Tommy guided the boys out of the Changretta's courtyard, but kept his senses alert. Mrs. Changretta might be the nicest family member, but her husband and children were certainly not. It was easy to offend anyone, not that Tommy would make that mistake, but he wanted no trouble today.

Not when he's already got one waiting at home.

As they entered their home, Harry turned to Tommy.

"Uncle Tommy," He said. "I've actually been waiting all day to show you something. I almost forgot, with all the fun I had today."

His affection for his nephew grew. Harry was such a polite boy, and his conviction and curious spirit was so much like Lily's. He was getting more blunt each day as well, and some things his nephew said. Well. Tommy would certainly have to hone the obvious skill.

"How about we go wash up before showing me anything, alright?"

Harry did not protest when Tommy lifted him up and carried him upstairs. He waited patiently, pretending to converse with Odeus as Harry washed up and dressed in his sleep clothes. The wet, unruly hair was inevitable, but Tommy took care in drying the boy's hair. Odeus slithered towards Harry's arm, it's hissing sounding like bliss.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to show me?"

Harry grinned. "I showed Aunt Polly today. I've been practicing for a while now, but I actually didn't think it would work. She thought I was brilliant." Harry's voice had turned to whisper, and concern filled him as his nephew's green eyes were filled with unbidden tears.

"For the longest time, I thought showing off my skills would make Aunt Petunia like me."

Tommy held the boy against his chest. His nephew's sniffles had become louder. "Oh Harry."

"I was so happy today because Aunt Polly wasn't cross at all." Harry took a shuddering breath. "I can do magic, Uncle Tommy."

"As Lily did, and your father."

His nephew nodded against his chest. "I found out that I wasn't a freak after all. It was all in the letter mum and dad left in the chest that I took with me."

Tommy nodded. He remembered the ornate chest his nephew had clutched with his life when they got him from Privet Drive. At first, he would find his nephew looking through the chest's contents in the middle of the night, the only source of light from the moon's beam, piercing through their window. In those times, Tommy did not dare disturb his nephew trying to reconnect with his dead parents through baubles and trinkets. He would merely watch the boy go through them, piece by piece, until Harry would fall asleep in exhaustion. He was reminded of a time when his mother had just passed away, and he was still a naive boy that longed for both his parents.

"I found a letter where they said they were witches and there was a charm that they used to protect ourselves. A man was supposed to hold the secret and not give away our location." Harry sniffled, and he swiped the back of his hands across his eyes. "That's where I found you and Sirius were supposed to be taking care of me. Then there were moving pictures, of mum, dad and I when I was a baby. I wasn't abandoned at all."

Tommy waited.

Harry wiped at his eyes furiously. "Anyway, I can do small things, like make light come out of my hands." Harry smiled. "I made Aunt Polly cry with a butterfly I made out of the light today."

Tommy chuckled. "Of course you did." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Anything you do can melt that woman's heart. Would you like to show me then?"

As lights danced and butterflies filled their room in Watery Lane, Tommy wondered why Harry could not have shown up on his life earlier, and wished life had gone differently for him. Harry's bright green eyes glowed in the apparent darkness, and found that perhaps the circumstances that led his nephew to him was unfortunate but preferable.

* * *

"I'm a trained nurse." Ada said, wringing a wet cloth over a basin.

"Don't make me laugh, bloody hell. My eye hurts!" Arthur crowed.

"I bloody am!"

John scoffed. "You had one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling."

Arthur was visibly straining as Ada cleaned up a busted eye, his knuckles white over the arms of his chair. Tommy wanted to look to the heavens and beg for mercy.

"Not before I learned how to stop someone from choking."

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?"

"You will be when I wring your neck with this cloth."

John finally broke and his laugh filled the room. Even Tommy could not help but quirk a smile at the scene in front of him. Polly merely rolled her eyes, but Tommy could see amusement dancing in her kohl eyes.

"Enough. What did Campbell want with you?" _With us?_

"The bastard said Churchill sent him." Arthur spat out some blood. "Said there's been a robbery. What robbery?"

Tommy expected it. He knew how the Crown operated, but he had figured he had enough time to dispose of it, perhaps even sell it.

No one spoke. Arthur continued. "He said he wants us to help him."

John raised a brow. "We don't help coppers."

"That's what I told him."

"Then we're not helping." Tommy said.

Arthur eyed Tommy suspiciously. His eyes darted towards Polly before staring at Tommy again. "What's got your knickers in a twist?" Arthur turned to Polly. "What the fuck's wrong with him lately?"

Polly peered at Tommy for a moment. "If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Compton's chemist."

Tommy grabbed his coat from a chair. All eyes were on him now. There was no explaining happening today, but perhaps the day after tomorrow.

"You're broken up pretty bad, Arthur. Why don't you let nurse Ada do her work." Tommy made to leave, but stopped before the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Tommy left the room.

Arthur growled. Polly clicked her tongue before yelling for him. "Tommy!"

Tommy ignored them.

* * *

In an alley, Tommy met Jeremiah again. The man's dreadlocks swayed as he turned to Tommy, and the latter offered him a smoke and a light.

"Thanks for the tip earlier. What do you see, Jimmy?"

"A lot of new coppers. They're looking for something, but the ranks don't know." Jeremiah blew smoke. "Our men inside are half-assing it, but it won't be long until they find something."

Tommy looked around and handed the man a half pound note. Jeremiah pocketed it and put out his smoke.

"What's going on, Tommy?"

"Nothing to worry about. I just need you to keep yours ears and eyes open and your mouth shut."

Jeremiah stilled and salutes a bemused Tommy. He had never liked pulling rank, but these men that followed him and essentially were his employees had respect for him. Likewise, Tommy respected them and knew they would be comrade in arms until all goes to shit.

"Yes sir, Sergeant Major."

Tommy left without saluting back.

AN: I will be mostly following Peaky Blinders' timeline for the next chapter or two, then a time skip after.  
Harry's too young to do anything really, but eventually he will realize his uncle's not that perfect. Possibly a few run-ins with Campbell might change that though *shrugs*  
We'll see :D


	3. Chapter 3: The Devil

Ada sat in post-coital bliss next to Freddie Thorne, their skin glowing with the sheen of sweat, cancer stick in one hand. The dingy room her lover stayed in was lit brightly by the sun flitting through the metal grilled window. Clothes were strewn about the room haphazardly. She could only imagine the furious faces of her brothers if they ever saw her in this part of the town.

"I take it you had a family meeting last night?" Freddie said.

Ada rolled her eyes. "Your obsession with Thomas isn't really attractive, Freddie." She offered the smoke to him and covered herself up better. "Yes, we did. The copper thought by beating up Arthur, we'll come to his aid in finding something."

"What sort of deal did he give Arthur?"

Ada heaved a suffering sigh. "Of course, it's politics that's on your mind again."

Freddie poked a finger into her side. Ada squirmed away from him. "What did Tommy say?"

"You know what he's like." Ada said, taking a discarded skirt off the floor. "Nothing, obviously. He was being mysterious about it and Arthur, nor Aunt Polly, liked it."

"Yea, that seems about right."

"He'll be mad as hell if he ever finds out I'm with you." Ada angrily turned towards Freddie. "And don't antagonize him either, Freddie Thorne!"

"I wouldn't dare defy the king of Birmingham." Freddie said with a flourish, which made Ada's features soften. Her lover was a mad man for getting into protests and defying the system. "Besides, one day, Tommy and I will be on the same side again."

Ada doubted it, unless Freddie willingly left his politics and joined the Peaky Blinders. Tommy Shelby would never willingly join another group where his doctrine was not followed. Her brother was quiet and did not assert his views on anyone. She had a vague understanding of soldiers and their camaraderie, but knew Tommy's quiet nature was what drew them in to him.

No matter, she was not going to be part of Thomas' little gang of bookies when she marries Freddie Thorne. She was going to have a quiet life, without the reputation of being a Shelby hanging over her head.

* * *

Freddie Thorne eyed the dour Shelby across the yard. He had been meaning to speak to his former comrade, but with all the crackdown on the Communists, there was simply no time to accost the elusive Thomas Shelby.

He spat on the ground before jogging across towards Fenton's pub. Inside, Thomas was nowhere to be seen but Freddie reckoned he was just in the backroom. Freddie sidestepped a spittoon and sat on one of the stools before the bar.

"Hey, Harry." Freddie called out to Fenton. "Mind letting the king of Small Heath know I want to speak to him?"

Fenton's eyes shifted, and handed him a glass of amber liquid. "Not today, Freddie. The man wants privacy."

Freddie scoffed. "Come on, your boss wouldn't dare refuse it unless he wants a. . . situation."

Reluctantly, Fenton went over to the far side of the bar, where he stuck his head inside a tiny sliding window to the backroom. He thought he heard a child's voice through the window.

Freddie barely noticed the new blonde hire, who was surely mad if she was working around this area. She noticed him as well, and Freddie raised his glass to her and downed it in one go.

"What do you want?"

Freddie grinned and turned around to see Tommy Shelby. The man was not amused, but he held his emotions perfectly in check.

He hated that part of the new Tommy. Before the war, Tommy was a bright, happy man. An idealist with great plans on how he would change lives for the common folk. Once upon a time, Thomas Shelby was not the cold hearted bastard standing before Freddie Thorne.

"What, I can't see the great Tommy Shelby and talk about the weather?"

"My nephew's waiting. I suggest you hurry up because I will leave if you don't say what you need."

Freddie looked towards the open backroom. He saw a glimpse of another dark haired child that looked like a smaller version of Tommy before the mentioned individual blocked his view. There was a new sore point for Tommy. It was interesting, but Freddie was not here for that.

"I heard the new inspector tried to strike a deal with the Shelbys." He grinned up at Tommy. "What for?"

There was steel in Tommy's eyes. "None of your business. I suggest you go sniffing somewhere else." He turned to go back to the backroom. "Or I might just take up the inspector's deal."

It was a bluff, but Freddie would not put it past Tommy to fuck him over something like a small ribbing. "I want to marry Ada."

Tommy stopped in his tracks.

"I figured you're the best person to ask her hand for." Freddie shrugged. "Except, I don't think anyone can deter Ada from marrying me even if you refused."

He received no replies but the slamming of the backroom's door.

* * *

Harry eyed his uncle warily. The slam of the door frightened him so much that he accidentally spilled his drink over the papers strewn on the table. He looked forlornly at a crude drawing of a flying motorcycle.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Uncle Tommy had said, kissing the top of his head. Harry only smiled as the man helped him clean up, drawing the spill away from running into the boy's direction.

"Fenton, mind cleaning up a spill?" Tommy said to the small window and then went back to sit beside Harry.

"Are you alright, Uncle Tommy?"

"I'm fine, lad." Tommy said, drinking the last of his whiskey. "Just a nuisance outside. Now, where were we?"

Harry shrugged. "We were at multiples of four."

For a few hours, Harry could feel the tension emanating from his uncle. He was patient in teaching Harry advanced subjects, and did not let anything show that something was amiss with him. He wondered a lot about the people his uncle spoke to in secret. The man always conducted the conversations outside of Harry's hearing, and although the boy could only catch bits sometimes, none of them made sense to Harry.

Harry wondered about what a 'Lewis machine' was, and what did the copper from Belfast had anything to do with it. Then his thoughts drifted towards Uncle Arthur's face this morning. He was horrified to see the usually chipper man moaning in the morning, blackened eye hidden by his hands. Aunt Polly was beside herself, harassed by the complaints of Arthur in the kitchen.

"I just took a huge tumble, lad." Was his uncle's explanation, and Harry almost believed him. Arthur looked remarkably like him after a beating from Dudley's gang after all, just with more severe cuts and bruises on the face.

"Uncle Tommy?"

"Hm?"

"I've been meaning to ask—" Harry shifted in his seat, "—but are you famous?"

Uncle Tommy took on a surprised expression.

"Why do you think that, Harry?"

Harry was reluctant to ask his uncle, but knew his question would not cause his uncle to get mad.

"I've been observing the way the people in Small Heath. Most people start to look like gaping fishes when you pass by."

His uncle chuckled, then patted Harry's head.

"People that have ambition will do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, Harry. We have a bookmaking business so we can have a better life here. It was not a well paved road on the way to getting a foot in the business." Tommy leaned back. "Remember, we weren't well when my brothers and I got back from the war. There was a time where we had to resort to stealing and cheating people, but only the deserving. The rich made it hard for anyone from the slums. A lot of people appreciated our kind of work, especially those ones that lived in the really battered place we pass by sometimes. They're simply thankful, love."

Harry frowned as he took it in. Thievery and deception sounded more like what Vernon Dursley would do, rather than Thomas Shelby.

"We are not perfect, nephew. I am not perfect." His uncle's eyes had a faraway look to them. "If your mother were alive, she might have been able to curb this kind of bad behaviour in your uncle." Tommy tried to jest.

Harry smiled a little then leaned forwards. "But we won't do that sort of thing now, right?" He looked down at his hands. "I don't want you to end up like Arthur." _Or worse._

His uncle gave him a resigned sigh. "We'll be alright, love."

For now, Harry believed that was the truth.

* * *

Tommy watched his nephew work on a few problems he told him to solve. They were cruising through lessons that would not have held a normal five year old's attention. Harry was an exception.

While he wanted to keep the child's innocence, it would certainly be preferable if he learned how the real world worked. Tommy would make sure he would be never involved in the family business, but that was probably asking for a miracle.

Harry's observance of him and the people of Small Heath had surprised him. He applauded the boy for his curious and observant nature, but it also made him wary.

Anything he does now could shatter the trust he had built between them. Harry was turning out to be a stickler for what was right, except Tommy had no qualms about causing problems for others if it meant his family ended up on the top of the food chain.

It was endearing to see the small boy worry for him.

"I won't end up like Arthur, Harry. I've got a plan and—" Tommy eyed the curious boy, and resigned himself to speak a partial truth. It was better to be honest with the kid now. "—it might upset people. I can't say how many people will be upset but remember this, Harry."

Harry leaned forward.

"Everything I do is for family, especially for you." Tommy shook his head. "Remember there was a dark wizard who had killed your parents?"

Harry frowned. "Yes?"

"I'm not sure that he's gone for good, lad." Tommy sighed. "This is why I must protect you better than anything. I reckon you're famous in the wizarding world. I never dabbled nor visited it, not since Lily and James took me. I can assure you that in the regular world and the magical side, people are all the same. They want something, they'll achieve it through any necessary means they deem fit. If anything offends them, the truly relentless ones will do anything. Anything, Harry."

"But what does that have to do with me?"

"If I remember this right from what your mother told me, the dark wizard that killed your parents had followers. They were very similar to the kind of men I fought in the war. If they find out you were alive, the only vanquisher of their leader, I'm afraid they will try to find you and finish what their leader started. Such fanaticism makes you lose vision of your path, and of what's right and wrong." Tommy's face had turned grim. He loathed to tell his theory on what he thought Harry would face soon. Once his nephew goes back to the magical world, attempts on his life would be inevitable.

Harry hung his head. "They'll do what Uncle Vernon and that dark wizard couldn't." His nephew whispered.

Tommy closed his eyes and hooked his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"That is why you must know, that even if I do something remotely bad, know that I'm doing it to protect you as much as I can, even if it kills me in the process."

* * *

It was a solemn duo that entered number six Watery Lane. Polly had picked up on it immediately when Thomas and Harry walked through the kitchen. Thomas lingered beside her as she drank her tea. Once they heard a door shut, Polly turned to Thomas.

"I hope you didn't just shatter that boy's dreams and hopes like you do to others."

Thomas did not respond but he sat heavily on one of the chairs.

"Tell me, Thomas. Does it bother you that people are miserable because of what you've done to them?"

Polly did not flinch, nor shiver, at the piercing stare her nephew gave her.

"I told him my business is for the good of the family." Thomas said, taking out a cigarette. "And that the wizard who killed Lily and James will have followers. Men and women who would not hesitate to finish what their master had started."

She stared at Thomas, unbelieving expression on her face. This was not what Polly was expecting from Thomas. She had a vague understanding of what happened to her beloved niece and her husband, and not much of what goes on in the wizarding world. It was not a territory she cared to trespass as she was not magical, and her mother, albeit a witch, had turned her back on the same world Harry came from.

"What do you mean?" She hissed, sloshing his cup of tea. "Don't tell me they'll be looking for Harry here?"

Thomas shook his head. "I don't know. This is all speculation on my part." He threw a hand to the side. "These people are not unlike the men I fought in the war, but I'm not sure how loyal they are to their leader's cause. Fear is a poor method of enslaving people. It's only a matter of time before someone finds Harry here if they are the sycophants that I think they are."

Polly pursed her lips. "What will you do then? Harry's had enough of a bad childhood."

"I'm reluctant to do it, but the old man from Lily's school might help." Thomas shook his head. "If there's no one else, he'll be the last resort but I'll never go to him unless it was dire."

Polly nodded. Men had their reasons for not trusting each other, and if the said man was someone to be not trusted at first glance, then she'll believe Thomas. She had only ever heard of the man in passing, but nothing she knew was enough to go by and judge him herself.

"Well, make sure you do right by that boy, you hear me?"

The silence was enough. Polly knew Thomas would not do anything to harm the boy even without her warning.

"Is there anything else?"

Polly sighed when a thought popped into her head. "Ada's pregnant."

"And who is the father?"

"I would reckon Freddie Thorne. She's adamant to marry him, and I won't have you ruining their future."

"Sure." Thomas said, but she was unsure about his old friend's sincerity.

"Ada swears he's genuine in his feelings for her."

Polly waited but got no response from her nephew. She wondered where it all went wrong with Freddie and Thomas. Both had gone to war, tunneled their way to enemy territory and risked being blown up for England. What came back was a cold and calculated Thomas, and Freddie who had taken up arms against the establishment and was now a stark supporter of anything that defied the establishment. It had baffled Polly, and she blamed the war for the husks of people that came back to live normal lives.

"We'll see." Thomas said before leaving her in the kitchen.

* * *

Harry relished the wind whipping his face as they drove towards the races. His Uncle Tommy had finally decided he could go to a race and see how some of the family business was done. Their car finally stopped before a wide fence with a _"Cheltenham Race"_ banner nailed on it.

"Why not, Uncle?" Harry asked, curious. He had been asking what kind of work he can do when he was old enough, and his uncle had winced when he said, _'A bookie doesn't sound too bad',_ Harry thought.

"It's grunt work." His uncle said, lifting him off the car. He told him and Finn to stick close to him and all of them set off towards the bleachers.

"You go to school so you won't end up doing grunt work like the men at the BSA factory and the betting shop."

Harry listened with half an ear, his eyes glued to the tens of horses in the stables, just off the side of the tracks. He could see his preferred stallion, Cheddar, being tended to by Curly and another man.

All the Shelbys climbed up towards the special box, and he was briefly introduced to a Billy Kimber who sneered at them when Uncle Tommy's back was turned.

"Turning domestic are we, Shelby?"

"Quite."

And that was that. Tommy then led them towards the end of the special box, where he was able to shield a frowning Harry.

"Rude man, that was." He said, still staring at Mr. Kimber. He was shouting at one of his companions, ordering him around without a thought. Harry thought he looked like Vernon, but shook his head immediately at the thought. He promised himself to not think about his old life anymore.

"Of course he would be." Finn said, handing him a bar of chocolate. "He's a rival of sorts. He's got more men and more guns than us. I wouldn't cross him, but I bet Tommy can take him."

"Hush." Uncle Tommy said, smoothing down Harry's shirt. "No one's taking on anyone. Not in the open at least."

"How would you do that?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. Dudley had always hurt him physically, and his taunts were nowhere near as good as what Uncle Vernon had told him.

Tommy smiled. "We hit, not his face, but where it hurts the most."

Harry never got to know what that answer meant at all because his other uncles showed up. Arthur and John swaggered to their seats next to Finn, knuckles bloody, but otherwise, the two men looked fine. He ran up to Arthur, who ruffled his hair.

"Come on, love. It's nothing. Your Uncle Arthur's tough." Arthur told him, his smile making his mustache wriggle. Harry nodded, but still worried for Arthur. He knew the man looked tough but had a soft heart. Instead of a mean drunk, Arthur was the kind to pine for a complete family, and wished for his mother alive and his father to come back home.

"That's right, squirt." John said, then turned to Tommy. "Had a run-in with Lee's men. It's done."

He looked between his uncles who averted their gazes from the younger ones. Harry was interested in what was going on, but Finn had his eyes glued to the tracks. He barely heard the gunshot to signal the start of the race.

While watching the race, Harry had half of his mind on what Arthur and John had done on Uncle Tommy's orders. He was only distracted from his thoughts when Cheddar and his rider fell on the second lap. People cheered and groaned when it happened, but Harry did not think it appropriate when an animal could possibly be injured. Harry did not bother to pay attention to the rest of the race as his Uncle Tommy had excused himself, and asked Arthur to watch him and Finn.

"Uncle Arthur, do you reckon I'll have to fight people someday?" He asked, eyeing the man's swollen knuckles. Arthur had wiped the blood on his wool jacket, ruining the bespoke suit.

"No, love." Arthur said, smoothing Harry's hair down. Harry always liked how Arthur spoke to him. While Uncle Tommy was still his favourite, there was something about the gentle nature of his oldest uncle that endeared the man to him.

"But you and Uncle John fight." Harry pointed out. "If I was made to, I wouldn't be like Dudley. He only picked on the small, helpless kids."

"Fat chance you'll be like that kid, Harry." John said, putting down his binoculars. "Just know that we don't fight for the fun of it. Business requires a certain kind of finesse that only someone like Tommy can do, and then the other part has to be done by us and other loyal men so no one will step on us."

Harry stared at them.

"Don't worry about it, alright?" Arthur smiled

Uncle Tommy came back as soon as Arthur finished his sentence, and Harry said nothing about it to Tommy. It was slowly dawning on him that all the work his uncles did could not come from innocent dealings with rivals.

When they came back to Watery Lane, there were people on the streets, and many people clamored to the Shelby's car as they came to a stop in front of their home. Harry looked around at the furniture on the street, most of them broken and chipped from being thrown.

"What happened here?" John said as he helped Harry off the car.

Arthur grabbed a passing lad, giving him a pound note before the boy talked.

"The coppers came here looking for something. They didn't say what." Was all the boy said, and Arthur let him scurry off. Harry looked up at his uncle, but Arthur was busy staring daggers at Tommy, who was talking to a stern looking Polly.

Then he was being carried to their home and was told to go to his room by John. Uncle Tommy stopped him though.

"You can stay, Harry."

"Isn't he too young, Tommy?" John asked, looking between them.

Tommy shook his head. "Not for this. He'll be fine."

Harry realizes he's part of a family meeting and he squirms in his seat in excitement. Finn was not included, but Harry reckoned he would be allowed to tell his youngest Uncle later.

"We're expanding. I have a plan to ingratiate ourselves with Kimber."

At this, Polly is suspicious and stares at Tommy. Harry thinks maybe being part of the meeting was not a good idea at all. He still did not like the fighting, no matter how many times his Uncle John and Finn assured him.

"And if it fails? We'll be fighting the Lees and Kimber on different fronts, spreading ourselves thin."

Tommy shook his head. "It won't come to that."

"Campbell wants to meet with you, Thomas." Aunt Polly said finally. "Is the trashing of our street because of whatever's between you two?" She was not openly glaring, but there was such intensity in her eyes that Harry felt as if he was withering.

Harry scooted his chair back, not wanting to be part of the meeting anymore. He was seeing too much of the cracks in the family he thought so perfect that they could do nothing wrong. There were so many hidden emotions behind his family's facades that he felt as if the lies would never stop.

Tommy hummed. "No, but I won't see him until I pay him back for today's racket."

The payback came in the form of a public burning. Later that night, people were gathered in the middle of the town's heart, with all sorts of characters clutching either a framed or loose picture of the King of England. Harry watched in horror and fascination at the pyre the residents had built, hundreds of the King's face burning and the people jeering at the act of defiling their ruler's face.

He did not partake in the activity, content to just watch the growing pyre in the centre of their street. Harry had seen Uncle Tommy talking to a man with a camera, who took pictures of the event and talked to various people who lived in Watery Lane, small notepad and pen in hand.

After a while, most people had gone from watching the pyre, and only a handful stayed to keep tossing more pictures of the King into it. He let himself be led away by Aunt Polly, towards their home. After being given warm milk, Harry went upstairs and laid himself down on his bed and fell asleep waiting for Uncle Tommy.

It turns out that it was in the early morning that his Uncle decided to meet with this Campbell character. To Harry's surprise, he was allowed to come with his uncle, only promising to say nothing and to stay quiet during the conversation that would take place.

Harry struggled to follow his uncle across a yard and into an ornately decorated room, full of gilded carvings in the walls and ceilings, and with servers milling around waiting on other obviously rich people. For a second, Harry felt conscious of his attire, but remembered he was no longer in rags. The attendant at the front desk recognized Uncle Tommy right away and led them to a circular table with a man already occupying said table.

"Ah, Tommy Shelby! You brought cavalry with you." The man said as he set his bowler hat on the table. Harry had a vague feeling that the jovial face directed at both of them was insincere. "I was hoping to talk to you without any little ears around. I would not deem the pressing matter at hand a minor...mishap."

Uncle Tommy did not pay the man any attention until Harry was seated properly and was served by the steward. Only when Harry was comfortable did Tommy sit down, opposite from the man whose face was no longer smiling.

As promised, Harry stayed quiet. Neither parties spoke, and only the utensils and quiet conversations from the other tables permeated the room.

"I came here, at your invitation, in hopes that we will come to an understanding of things." Tommy said. "Whatever you have to tell me, you can tell me right now and we'll work something out."

For a second, Harry thought the man's mustache would bristle in anger. He still did not understand why most of the time, one had to be polite, but in some accounts, it was better to be rude to get the other party to get to the point. But he understood this was Tommy being diplomatic, except nothing his uncle said took away Harry's unease.

Campbell chuckled and took a sip of his tea. "I had thought that since Arthur Shelby was the oldest, that he would hold the reins in this racketeering family you have. But no, your older brother seems more of a lackey than anything. I'm not sure I can let last night's events pass either. I can't be fooled. We know it was you Peaky Blinders who instigated the burning of the King's images."

"Mr. Campbell, I am a businessman. I want my business to be successful. I was only doing what the people of Watery Lane was thinking all this time. Most of us get shipped out to France and what welcome do we get when we get back? Zilch. We do not take kindly to accusations that have no grounds. Why, this almost sounds like harassment of the citizens under the crown." Tommy said, giving the Inspector a blank look.

Harry had heard of stories, of what his uncles had endured. People were still hurting from the war, but Harry could not fathom the pain as he did not see it firsthand. Uncle Arthur had said the man in front of them was a coward for not participating in the war. But then, Arthur would rather not see Harry get conscripted either, so this confused the young man.

"I want my city to be peaceful." Campbell said.

"A peaceful city can make a business thrive."

"But how peaceful can it be, when I found this?" Mr. Campbell slipped a paper towards Tommy, which Harry struggled to not stare at. "My _Specials_ found this in the bedroom of a known communist. The one who instigated a gathering just last week. Your sister, Ada, sleeps with Freddie Thorne."

"Are you in league with the communists, Mr. Shelby?"

Harry stared at the men. He had only ever heard the term communist a few times, but only because his other classmates had either fathers or relatives that were one. It was a sort of political group, but for what, Harry was unsure of.

"I'm not associated with those people at all. And who my sister sleeps with is none of your concern. My family does not lie with any person and consider him or her an ally right away."

"But in time, they could be then?"

His uncle said nothing, only continuing to stare at Mr. Campbell.

"Here's my deal. Get me the names of any communist partisan, and I will leave you alone."

"I'll counter that." Tommy said, thanking the server when Harry's treat came to the table. "By the end of the week, Freddie Thorne will be out of the city. Just give me the week and no one else will be inciting communism ideals after he's gone."

Mr. Campbell adapted a pensive face and nodded. "And if he isn't gone, we'll have your sister behind bars for sedition."

* * *

When they came home, Harry was met with the scene of his Aunt Ada and Polly at the kitchen table. They smiled politely at him but told him the conversation was for adult ears only. Uncle Tommy had smiled and nodded at him and he took off towards the upstairs.

Harry ignored the yelling downstairs, used to the arguments in the household. He had never really thought how Petunia and Vernon rarely fought, but chucked it up to them as being abnormal, as Uncle John had said. After the family meeting, Finn had told him arguing was normal in the Shelby household, what with how strong-headed the people heading the family are. Harry had merely blinked and accepted it as it was, knowing that at the end of the day, they all stayed together, no matter what.

It seemed as if his Aunt Ada was mad at Uncle Tommy for some reason. There was a slamming of the door and the noises died down. Harry heard the telltale pitter-patter of Thomas Shelby's shoes. His uncle peeked in the room, smiling as usual.

"Alright there, love?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I was just reading my books."

Tommy sat down beside him. "Sorry about the arguing. It can't be helped with Shelbys." Then he grinned. "That's not to say you can't have a fight with any of us. Only when you know you're in the right and nobody gets truly hurt, alright?"

Harry smiled. "Of course."

"Now, what did you learn at the meeting today?"

Harry frowned. "With Mr. Campbell? I only thought he reminded me of Uncle Vernon's clients."

"And?"

"And he looks like the sort that won't keep his promise?" Harry shrugged. "Vernon always had clients and coworkers that he would butter up, but I'm not sure if he saw how they didn't care about his offers or they could see through his lies. That's probably the one time I realized Uncle Vernon was probably not smart enough for his job."

Tommy nodded. "He is exactly that sort, Harry. I trust that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. You see, Ada is pregnant, and an old friend, Freddie Thorne is the father."

"A new cousin?"

"Yes, you'll have a new cousin, love." Uncle Tommy ruffled his hair. "But I'm unsure of Freddie's motives. We were once comrades, but his ideals don't align with what I want for our family. I've asked your Aunt Ada to leave him, but it seems like they went and got married without anyone knowing."

Harry frowned. "But isn't that good?" He meant the wedding part, of course. There was a time where Harry would take Aunt Petunia's words as the truth. In her words, unwed women were low-lives, but she never did say anything about the men who left the said women.

"It is, in a way." His uncle conceded. "Just a warning, love. Good intentions sometimes pave the way to hell."

Harry was left to mull over those words. Little did he know that it would apply to him one day.

* * *

A few days later, Harry caught Aunt Polly dressed up, tucking a paper-wrapped stack into her purse. Curious, Harry went up to her.

"Can I go with you, Aunt Polly?"

Aunt Polly smiled at him, patting his cheek. "Sorry, love. I've business to do and it's not for little boys like you to get involved in."

He frowned a little, then decided to follow Aunt Polly from a distance.

Harry had to dodge a few people in his pursuit of his aunt. He was also careful not to draw attention to himself, sticking to the shadows when he would see familiar faces of his classmates playing. Harry ignored the urge to join his friends and continued to follow Aunt Polly.

He perked up when he saw the telltale sign of a faded blue building, and hurried his pace. He ignored the stares, knowing no one here was going to hurt him. People parted for Aunt Polly when she approached the building. After a while, Harry braved the path to the entrance as well. The men at the door sniffed at him but let him pass all the same. He thanked them and threaded carefully inside, taking note of the twists and turns. It was packed inside, having four floors for such a narrow building. Harry tried his best not to look at the dirt-ridden folks that he passed by inside, remembering he was once like them for the first five years of his life with the Dursleys. Finally, he reached the third floor where Aunt Polly was stopped at, waiting in front of a weathered door.

It only took a knock before a groggy looking man was staring at Polly. "What are you doing here?"

"Let me in and I'll let you know, Thorne."

Harry saw a glimpse of Aunt Ada, before the door closed and muffled any sounds. He pressed his ear against the door.

"—two hundred pounds, Freddie." said what sounded like Aunt Polly. Harry heard a scoff.

"Did Tommy Shelby tell you to do this? What's this for?"

Harry listened to them argue about being Tommy's lapdogs and how this wasn't going to keep him away. He listened until everything got quiet and he fell forward on someone's shoes.

"What are you doing, lad?"

Harry scrambled to his feet. "I- I'm here for Aunt Polly."

"Harry?"

The old feeling of fear filled Harry, and he didn't dare look up to see what his aunt's face looked like. If he was at the Dursleys, his head would have been connected to a skillet by now.

"You should not be here, Harry." Polly said, and the stern tone was not lost on Harry. "We'll get you sorted out."

"I hope this boy keeps his mouth shut. "

Harry cowered under Freddie's gaze. He felt Aunt Polly's grip on his shoulder, and he took comfort in how she pulled him close to her.

"You will not threaten this child, Thorne. I'll see you if you ever make a decision."

Harry felt relieved once they left the run-down building, but Aunt Polly's grip never lessened as they walked away from the slums he had only seen twice.

"I do not know what you were thinking, going into such a place by yourself." She griped. "It seems we've been remiss in educating you on what it means to be a Shelby."

She didn't continue until they were safely secluded in an alley. Harry stared at the ground, sure of what was to come next. He did not expect the hug his aunt gave him.

"You are such an innocent child, Harry, that we forgot we can't just shield you from everything." She sighed.

"Now, I don't want you lurking about anywhere these parts or outside of our street without a chaperone from the shop. There are petty men everywhere, unfortunately ones who will not hesitate to hurt anything that's close to your uncle Thomas. Not to mention certain people who opposed your parents during their own war. They might not have found you in Surrey, but it's only a matter of time before.." Aunt Polly frowned. "Let's go home and you can help me make supper, alright love?"

Harry could only nod as they got out of the alley.

* * *

Weeks passed by before something went wrong, and Harry thought he would be returned to the Dursleys.

Finn barreled into Arthur with a pale look on his face.

"It's Harry! Come quick, Arthur!"

Without looking at anyone else, Finn ran back out.

It was not long before they found Harry getting pummeled by another boy. Arthur pulled both kids apart, tucking Harry behind him as he did.

"He's the devil, he is!" Shouted the other disheveled boy.

Harry shouted back angrily. "Am not!"

Other kids were silent, and none backed up Harry. Arthur groaned. "What happened here?"

A boy nervously answered, "He floated when he jumped off the bin there." The lad pointed to a garbage bin pressed against one of the slum apartments. "He'd slipped and he floated off it, rather than getting his head bashed."

Arthur got Finn to take a fuming Harry to their house. His plan was not the best, but it would work. He knew.

"Now, no more talk of any devils." He said, taking out a wad of pound notes. He knew what he looked like; Shelbys bribing children. It wasn't the lowest, but it would seem that way to others. Arthur offered the note to the boy who had just punched his nephew. Hopefully it would stave him off antagonizing Harry in the future. "The wind carried him. I've seen incredible things at war, lads, and not everything looks as it seems. Now take a note each, and never speak of this to anyone. Harry is a Shelby."

He ended with that as the boys took a note from Arthur's hand and scrammed to wherever they were playing.

A girl clutching a book glared at him with furrowed brows. He noticed she did not take a note. Her bushy mane looked ridiculous to Arthur, but he knew she was a beauty underneath all that hair.

"It wasn't the wind." She said to him, leaving Arthur standing in the middle of the street, wondering how odd children were nowadays.

"I'd go bonkers if even one of my children have Harry's magic." Thomas caught John saying. "They're already a handful without all the powers. I'd surely go grey especially if Katie had magic."

Polly made a disapproving noise. "Don't let Harry hear you say that. He'll think he's not wanted in this house, John. You'd be as bad as those vile Dursleys if you say things like that again."

Thomas noted John had the decency to look ashamed at least. His brother should learn to curb his tongue more with Harry around.

"Think this will be a regular occurrence, Tommy?" Arthur asked. "I'd hate to see the lad be shunned if he accidentally does this in public more than once. Folks around here aren't inclined to bin their thoughts about mysterious things. Our men perhaps, but others? Didn't Lily and James use gold coins to pay for things? Gold makes people talk faster than a pound note."

Thomas shook his head. "It seems like we'll have to put more effort in making Harry feel at home. The kids will remember your words, Arthur. Harry is a Shelby, and this won't be the only incident."

"What did even set off that kid who punched Harry?" John asked.

"Recognized the lad as one of the orphans at the nunnery." Arthur grumbled. "Religious, if you will."

Silence permeated the room. It was a sobering thought that the cheerful boy they came to love still had his doubts about his new guardians. Once he got through the door, Harry had taken one fearful look at the adults in the kitchen and then ran upstairs to shut himself in his and Thomas' room. The latter thought of introducing the boy early to his heritage. He was reluctant though. The magical world had already taken Lily away from them, what was the possibility that they would lose Harry too? And like everything else in a Shelby's life, it was evidently inevitable.

"I'll have to have someone teach him before he starts school." Thomas announced.

Polly raised a brow. "You're willing to contact that man?"

Thomas frowned. "No, but I'll find someone. Someone without any agendas and have no care about Harry's fame."

"How will you do that? All contact we had with that world was through Lily and James. Petunia would rather burn than have anything to do with what she thinks is abnormal.." Polly said, clearly displeased with Thomas's plan.

"You'll see."

* * *

It was an early start for Thomas and Harry. The boy was still quiet, but he would occasionally point out something in the distance as they drove towards London. It was enough for Thomas to think his nephew was recovering from yesterday's outburst.

Occasionally, Harry would scoot closer to him but would stray again as if Thomas would take offense to the affection from the boy. He did not say anything as it might make Harry even more reluctant to get closer to him.

London was bustling with activity as usual, seemingly even more so than Watery Lane. Thomas held Harry's hand in a firm grip as they crossed the intersection of Charring's Cross Road to where the wizarding world's entrance should be. It was easy to see the obscure pub in the middle of the day, as it was the only one not getting approached by the regular folks around. A dingy sign above them squeaked loudly as it swung, etched on it were the words _Leaky Cauldron_ and a picture of a bubbling cauldron depicted on it.

Harry gave him a questioning glance. Thomas adjusted his nephew's peaked flat cap to cover more of the boy's forehead. After all, it would not be ideal if anyone spotted his famous nephew and be swarmed by dozens of unknown witches and wizards.

"Where are we?"

Thomas ignored Harry just the once as they both headed to the bartender. The man tending to the bar was a balding man, but the numerous lines on his face suggested he often smiled. Thomas told Harry to stay close before he turned to the bartender.

"Hi there! I'm Tom. What can I do for you today?" The man said, bringing a clean glass onto the table.

Thomas held a hand. "I'm afraid we're just passing through today, mate. I'm here to take my nephew shopping for Hogwarts. Would you mind opening the passage for us?"

Tom nodded right away, discarding the rag he was just holding. "Right, of course. This way, sir."

He knew his nephew had many questions just waiting to burst, but he thankfully stayed quiet as Tom tapped a long stick on five bricks, which prompted the brick wall to part. The transition surprised himself. It awed Harry as the boy stood, jaw gaping, at the sight of Diagon Alley before them.

Thomas thanked the man and tugged Harry with him, plunging the two in the busy crowd in the wizarding shopping district.

"Uncle?"

Thomas smiled. "Go on, Harry. I know you have questions."

Harry looked nonplussed. "Do I?" Thomas almost chuckled at the raised eyebrow.

"Say it now, love."

"Why are we here?" Harry said in wonder, head quickly whipping around as if he did not have any time to take in all the sights. One robed lady was haggling with a vendor about newt eyes, and Thomas tugged Harry closer to avoid the flailing woman's arms.

Thomas sighed. He has thought a lot about the pros and cons of his nephew knowing about his heritage. "After yesterday's accident, I think it's time to get you a tutor."

"A tutor? But I already go to school." Harry quipped, confusion marring the boy's face. His nephew's eyes belied the expression though. Tommy could see so much eagerness bursting already.

"You know for what it is, Harry. Feigning stupidity is unbecoming of you." Tommy gave him a severe look. "We're to go to the bank first. We will have to look over the estate your parents left you, as surely it has been neglected since your family went into hiding."

Harry's eyes widened. "An _estate_?"

Tommy hummed. "I would gladly pay for your schooling instead, but knowing cousin Lily, your parents would have already gotten that covered. No, this is just to see what your money has accumulated in the years it's been sitting in the vaults. We want your money to make money while it sits."

It was not long before they were entering the gleaming white bank, full of gilded desks and columns, guarded by menacing looking creatures. Harry was curious, Thomas could tell, but thankfully his nephew curbed his tendencies to blurt out questions to the Goblins. He was not sure if they would leave unscathed if Harry managed to offend any of the creatures.

They joined a fairly short queue, standing after a tall, robed man with platinum blond hair and holding a silver cane, wolf head sitting primly on top of it. Next to the man was a boy around Harry's age, but significantly taller than his nephew, and was robed in a midnight blue with silver trimmings. Thomas could recognize old money anywhere, and these two were no different.

As expected, the man in front of him eventually noticed Thomas and Harry. The man's eyes hardened at the sight of Thomas, an oncoming sneer forming on his face. None of the wizarding folk wore wore wool coats nor peaked hats after all.

"I did not know they let in riffraff in Diagon Alley." The man started. He felt Harry bristle beside him. Tommy gave the man a dead smile.

"I would reckon they let in more vile things like lizard innards, but I won't complain. To each their own I suppose." Tommy shot back, aware of the scrutiny from the man. The disgust was still present, but he did not miss the flicker of curiosity cross the man's eyes.

"And who might you be, to disgrace these walls of your presence and talk back to your betters? I am Lord Malfoy, and you are...?"

Tommy tightened his grip on Harry, knowing the boy's temper was about to boil over. If only he could send an apologetic look his nephew's way on what he's about to do.

"I'm only here to advise my nephew on money matters, nothing else. I don't suppose I could take over your spot for your snit, _sir._ " Tommy smiled, savouring the slow reddening of the man's face. "My nephew's very important, more so than your kind of riffraff."

His eyes focused on the cane's head. Tommy deduced it could be unscrewed based on how the man's other hand was gripping the base. It was not intentional that his firearm was on his person, but he moved his arm the same, giving the man the glimpse of the holster. Harry's hands had started sweating then. If only Tommy could reassure his nephew he was not going to shoot anyone, not when Harry was nearby anyway.

A goblin had interrupted their stare off just then, beckoning a long gnarled finger at Thomas and Harry.

"Sire, our head of accounts has been expecting the Potter heir for a while now. Best follow me before any incidents occur in the lobby." The goblin drawled, giving a pointed look towards him and Lord Malfoy.

"Ah, there you are Harry. Best service we've ever had since setting foot in the wizarding world." Tommy then patted Harry's head and nudged him towards the being walking away from them.

"Uncle Tommy?"

Tommy smiled down at Harry. "Yes, love?"

"I don't want you to die." Harry said nervously. He looked back at the still fuming wizard in line.

"I don't wan't you to either."

—

An: only took me a year lol but that's way better than me half-assing most of what I write. I can't promise anything on Smaragdine.  
Yet.


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